


Fallacy (or, Remembering Who You Were Before They Told You Who You Should Be)

by sporktato



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apprentice!Dick Grayson, Bruce is written as inconsistently as he is by actual DC writers, Court of Owls, Damian trusts his cat's instincts, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Not Adopted, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dissociation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt Dick Grayson, M/M, Memory Loss, Mentions of past attempted suicide, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Past Underage Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Repression, Stockholm Syndrome, Tim is trying, Trauma, it's implied but it's there, we all love Alfred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporktato/pseuds/sporktato
Summary: Here's how it goes in this universe: Bruce wasn't at the circus that night, and the Court is successful in stealing a grieving boy away into the night. The issue is, as good as the Court is at many things, turning an overemotional child into an adult that follows orders is not one of them. Enter Deathstroke, who strikes a deal to raise the circus boy until he's ready for the Court. However, he isn't a fan of others touching his stuff, and after over a decade the weapon he created is definitely his. To make matters worse, the man he now possesses was much more unruly when he was still a teen, and managed to befriend a street rat named Jason without Slade knowing. What happens when all three sides, each with some sort of claim to the (Gray Son)(weapon)(friend) come into play at the same time? Most would say nothing good.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 110
Kudos: 543





	1. First

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, before you get into this, read the tags and take them seriously! I will be the first to say this is a pretty fucked up fic and there's lots of triggers!! If anything bothers you please stop reading! With that being said, if you're here for the long run strap in this took me ten months to write

“What is this I hear about you enlisting Todd with this child's play?” Damian stalked down the stairwell, barely sparing Tim a glance as he descended on his father at the computer. “Todd? Father! This is a simple drug ring, even Drake is competent enough to wipe something like this out.” The snort behind him went unnoticed by both Waynes. 

“Damian,” Bruce didn’t take his eyes off the data scrolling on the monitor as he addressed his son. “There is reason to believe the drug they are about to release is more dangerous than anything we have dealt with in a very long time. Like it or not, Jason has his finger in pies we don’t even know exist and he can help prevent a lot of bad from happening.” Bruce looked up finally, taking in his two sons, Damian a small ball of fury in front of him, Tim had situated himself in the corner with a blanket, two seperate mugs of coffee, and case files spilling around him, casually viewing the scene. 

“Tt. What makes you think Todd would even agree to- to assist us?” Bruce leaned back in his chair, leather creaking. Tim raised an eyebrow, Bruce had also told him little about the current case, and the addition of one Jason Todd did complicate matters, though he would never outwardly agree with the brat.

“Because, Damian, if Jason cares about one thing, it’s the safety of those on the streets, who will be the first, and largest, target for this. He can get information we can’t and you both know this.” His glance flicked to Tim at the last few words, who slunk further into his blanket. 

“Tt. Unnecessary.” His youngest stormed back up the stairs. 

Bruce held Tim's gaze. “Trust me Bruce, I'm the last person you need to explain yourself to.”

Jason's motorcycle cast strange shadows throughout the Cave as he pulled to a stop. “You're late.” Barbara called out with a smile as he set his helmet on the saddle. His footfalls didn't mask Damian's added “Typical.” Jason's scowl directed itself first at Damian as he climbed the handful of stairs to the nest before targeting Bruce. 

“Alright B, I'm here, why?” The space he put between himself and the rest was noticeable, as was the hostility in his stance, arms crossed, body rigid against the arm rail.

Bruce sighed, an action that seemed to double in frequency when all three of his boys were in the same room. At least Barbara was civil. “What do you know about a drug called Vengeance?” 

If possible, the sharp look on Jason's face sharpened. “Why do you want to know?”

“Jee, Jason,” Tim rolled his eyes, mimicking his older brothers pose, “I don't know, maybe it has something to do with how it could affect Gotham?” Jason, to his credit, only huffed. Bruce watched as his eldest huffed again and shifted. 

“Today, Todd, or go be useless somewhere else.” Barbara cuffed the back of Damian's head quietly. 

“Listen,” Jason began, “honestly, not a whole lot. It's some big money shit that some fuckwad let loose in Japan. There were rumours it was spreading, but there were complications, and last I heard, it was still across the ocean.” 

Bruce grunted. “It's already here, or at least willing buyers are. I need to know what it does, what it looks like, smells like, tastes-”

“Yeah I know how street drugs work B, thanks, and I'm telling you, I don't know. If there's buyers, well, it, it's a stretch, but-”

“Spit it out Todd!”

“I swear I will fucking end you-” Jason pushed off the handrail, stalking forward, hand reaching into his jacket. Damian's own hand was already on the sword at his side. 

“Jason!” Barbara chastised him, putting herself neatly between the two. Her outburst was echoed by Bruce's stern “Damian.” Jason glared down, Damian glared up. Jason's hand slid out of his jacket, holding nothing. Damian slowly released his grip. Tim cleared his throat, ignoring how all eyes shot to him. 

“You were saying, Jason?” Everything went back to as normal as it could get. 

“I was saying, it's a stretch, like even for me, but I know someone who might know something, but getting him to talk can be a challenge.” Tim ignored Barbara's sighed “Fingers in pies” as he met Jason's eyes.

“Challenge how?” Tim was amazed Bruce hadn't stepped in to micro manage the not-interrogation yet. “Cause I thought you knew how to make people talk.” 

It's worth noting, Tim doesn't agree with Jason's ways of working, but he doesn't necessarily disagree, and he knows Barbra silently feels the same. 

Jason's face goes blank, something Tim had slowly learned to mean his brother is lying by omission, because believe it or not, Jason does outright lie the least out of all five of them. “He talks in riddles. And is always two steps ahead. Seriously, always. He'll know something is up as soon as he sees me. I'd have to talk to him alone, without surveillance or anything.” 

Damian burst. “Oh like hell will Father let you meet up with a perfect stranger with no way for us to know what happens, let alone for something vital like this! You truly are insane Todd! I told you Father, waste of time!” With that the boy made a dramatic exit down the steps, which was only slightly ruined when he ended up just going to the other corner of the cave, still within earshot.

Tim shared a look both with Barbra and Jason. All three of them turned to Bruce, who had been disturbingly quiet. “This is a dangerous situation. I will admit it's been a while since my own knowledge on what we're up against has been this limited. This man, is he to be trusted?” Tim huffed, like Bruce remotely trusted anyone. 

Jason's face remained amazingly blank. Tim wondered if Bruce knew what it meant. “He likes me enough, you know we don't throw around the T word like that. But yeah, he's pulled through in the past. Seriously though, if this is to happen, no other Bats, none of Barbara's camera's, let me just deal with it, or I'm not helping with this shit at all.” 

Tim watched Barbara watch Bruce watch Jason watch Bruce. Tim did what he did best, rationalized and planned. Jason was a loose canon in Bruce's books, but if he said he'd do something he'd do it. Tim knew Bruce didn't like Jason meeting up with a mystery guy alone on behalf of the Bats, but if anyone knew pimps and thugs it was Jason. There was a good chance this guy had nothing anyways, but there was a good chance he had something. Either way, Tim figured, Bruce wouldn't know at all without Jason. He hoped he wasn't going to have to argue with Bruce on Jason's behalf, it was a death wish and he knew it. He waited. Bruce heaved in a breath, not quite a sigh. Tim figured he'd already found at least six loopholes to Jason's proposition, just in case. 

“Okay.” Tim let out the breath he was holding. Damian squawked, indignant, across the cave. “But,” Tim thought Jason might concuss himself with the force of his eye roll. “you are to tell us when and where the meeting is, and come immediately here when it is done.” 

“Oh yeah let me just lead any possible followers right to the Cave.” Barbara, still within arm reach, cuffed him across the head too. Tim wondered how she was the only one who got away with doing that. Probably because she was the oldest. 

“You know exactly what he meant idiot.”

“Ow, yeah, okay, fine. Is that it? Cause unlike you fucks I do actually have shit to do.” Bruce's silent dismissal saw Jason high tailing it back down the stairs, his motorcycle roaring out of sight in a matter of seconds.

Tim got a text two nights (mornings?) later as he was entering some new data on Ivy's latest hideout. Roof of Weizer Bank, around 2am. Tim stared at his watch till the hands made sense. That gave them nearly 20 hours to not get ready to not get surveillance on the meetup.

Tim and Barbara had conferred earlier, with Damian in the corner pretending to ignore them. Jason had made it clear he didn't want Barbara's cameras, but he hadn't said anything to Tim about his own hacking skills. Given, whereas Barbara had her own cameras around the city, Tim would have to take time to hack into whatever city ones there were in the area and hope for a good angle, but at least it A) wouldn't keep them totally in the dark and B) wouldn't break the rules Jason set. Sure he would be pissed if he found out, but Barbara had assured Tim he could cower behind her if it happened. 

Bruce didn't show it, but Tim could tell he was relieved when Tim told him the camera plan. He let Barbara take credit for it, even if that was just another way to hopefully save his skin. It's not that he was afraid of Jason, or for him for that matter, but something about Jason's reluctance to this meeting seemed to go past his normal 'fuck you Bruce’ attitude. Colour Tim curious.

With a rare stroke of luck, or maybe because the meeting was on top of a bank, there was a camera looking down onto the roof of the bank, perfectly encompassing the entire area. Seeing who was actually coming or going was a little difficult, the best cameras being across the street and very easy to slip by, but they'll take what they can get. Admittedly, Damian was the one to point out that if something happened to Jason, there was a good chance they wouldn't be able to make it in time, depending on how bad the stranger wanted to mess him up, as they were all situated in the Cave as promised. Tim didn't want to see Jason die.

Jason had secrets. No shit. However, as he waited on top of the bank, his watch reading 1:57, he figured this was definitely one of his bigger, and deadlier, ones. Jason lived on borrowed time, always had. Most of it was owed to one person in particular, one person he didn't want Bruce to know about. Speaking of which, “Any minute now doll face…” A shadow in his peripheral. Jason spun around, gun in hand. Finally. 

“Hel-lo good looking.” Dick's smirk was crooked, to anyone else his stance would seem relaxed, but Jason could see the anxiety thrumming under his black outfit, the fingers twitching on the handle of a throwing knife. There was half a rooftop between them. Jason took in the sight in front of him. Dick's hair was longer, shoulder length now, still oily black. The black domino and bodysuit cover most of him, but there was a shadow of a bruise spreading over his jaw on the left. 

Dick closed the distance, moving silently as always. And Bruce thought he had the 'shadow’ thing down. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Five steps apart. Jason assumed his pretty blues were sweeping for cameras. There was one, Jason knew, not one of Barbara's, and lacking a mic. 

“I need your help pretty bird. I need to know everything there is to know about a new street drug called Vengeance.” Jason tested the waters, taking a step and a bit. Dick's knife disappeared into his outfit. Another step and a bit. 

“Oh ho?” Dick's brow quirked, smile turned real. This would be a good night. “The big bad Red Hood needs help from moi?” Dick's arms slid around Jason's neck, down his back, drawing the two together. Jason was glad he'd decided to leave his helmet behind. 

“Yeah, well, or maybe I just wanted to see you.” Dick's laugh was quiet but airy, melting into Jason as the taller of the two wrapped his arms around Dick's waist.

“God, Vengeance. Who names these?” 

“I'm sure the Japanese shit who made it named it something cool, but since this is America, we're stuck with the boring shit. Whaddya know pretty bird?” Jason blinked and suddenly Dick was out of his grasp, a good four steps away, staring out at the city. Jason's eyebrow quirked. “Birdy?”

“Bats.” 

Jason's other eyebrow followed the first. “Bats?” Dick turned to look at him. 

“This is for Batman isn't it? I know there's no way you would know, they keep tabs on you.” Now there wasn't time to unpack all that.

“Yeah, I mean he told me, but I'm doing this for Gotham, for the poor shits who'll have to deal with the drug first. You know how I work Dickie, help me out.” 

Dick started twirling a throwing knife, remaining otherwise frozen. “I- I can't, Jay. I can’t be talking to you. You should go. It won't be long anyways.” Jason took a second to breathe, he knew what he was getting into contacting Dickie in the first place. 

“What do you mean won't be long? Long till Vengeance hits the streets? Long till he comes?” Dick stalked towards Jason, knife in hand. Jason may have taken a startled step back. It'd been forever since that predatory look had been directed at him, something had ruffled his feathers before meeting Jason.

“Don't make me do this Jason.” They were a half step apart, Dick huffing, staring the few inches up at Jason, knife catching in the streetlight. This would be a good night, Jason had promised himself. 

“Okay.” Jason swallowed, thought fast. “Okay, you don't have to do anything.” Painfully slow, he ghosted his hand over Dick's, the one clutching the knife. “How about, how about I just ask questions? Just out loud. You don't have to do anything, I promise.” They've played this game before, over the years, as things got harder, as Dick was forced to do things no one should have to. This game was familiar like a punch, painful, but expected. Jason waited, still holding Dick's hand which was holding a knife. Jason could, would, wait all night. Dick's other hand slid on top of his, lifting it off and sliding the knife away. They didn't step back from each other. 

“People might think you're crazy if you start talking out loud.” Dick spoke barely above a whisper. He was afraid. 

Jason forced a smile. “Don't worry prettybird, I don't need any help with that.” He held his hand out, palm up, wedged in between their two bodies. “Let's sit, yeah?” 

Dick's eyebrows furrowed, but slowly took his hand and let Jason lead him to the edge of the building. Jason sunk down with a grunt - he'd gotten his ass kicked a little too much for his liking a few nights ago - and let his legs flop over the edge, dangling. Dick dropped sleekly beside him, legs pulled to his chest. Jason figured, not for the first time, he could get used to this. That is, having Dick beside him, Gotham in front, the sparse stars above peeking through the clouds. Also sitting, sitting was nice. 

“You know about Vengeance?” Jason stared at Dick. The corner of Dick's mouth ticked up. Yes. “You know who's selling it?” Dick's head tilted to the side, lost puppy style. Need a better question. Jason paused, that had seemed pretty straight forward to him. Unless, Bruce had said something. “There's multiple sellers?” An uptick. Yes. “You know one.” That wasn't a question. 

Dick turned his head to look at him. “‘m sorry Jay.” He still smiled, but it was a sad smile, one Jason knew well and hated even more. Jason breathed, and breathed again. Dick looked back to the city. 

“Is there a cure, that you know of?” A head tilt. Jason remembered how much he hated why they needed this game. “Okay no wait, street drug. It wears off, doesn't it?” Yes. “Do you know how long?” Dick closed his eyes, waited a breath, and opened them. No. “Shit.” Dick let out something that might have been a laugh. Jason could see Selina's apartment from here. If Bruce was camping there-. “What does it do?” He was talking to himself, properly this time. He definitely wasn't expecting an answer, but Dick let his legs drop and spun to face Jason on the ledge. 

“Everyone wants to know.” More code, more games, more things that shouldn't have to exist but do anyways. “Câmpuri Casper, opt, douăzeci și cinci.” Jason processed, and then laughed. Laughed about this stupid drug and his stupid life and these stupid games and this stupid beauty in front of him. Dick understood, he started laughing too, quietly, always quietly. 

Jason caught his breath. He stared at Dick, who stared back. “I miss you.” It slipped out before Jason could stop himself. Stupid, really, he knew Dick could never say it back, not as long as he lives how he lives. Dick sighed, frowned, furrowed his brow. Everything he couldn't say swam on his face. 

“Oh little wing.” He lifted his hand, dragged his fingers over Jason's cheekbone, his cheek, below his jaw, just holding onto the back of Jason's neck. Jason leaned into the touch, closed his eyes, wished this was the reality and the before and the after were the fantasy. The touch was gone. Jason opened his eyes. He was alone.


	2. Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty y'all this has some non-consensual drug use and some blood, as well as some low key slut shaming (?) ... You've been warned.
> 
> Also thank you all so much for the kind comments on the first chapter I was so hesitant posting this but y'all pulled through as always!

Tim had just finished hurriedly deleting all evidence of even knowing  _ that  _ camera existed when Jason pulled, slowly, into the Cave. Barbara at Tim's shoulder rushed down the stairs towards Jason, giving Tim an extra second to compose himself because she's a goddess. Barbara was talking, then two sets of footsteps up the stairs, Tim attempted to push his hair back before turning to face whatever mess awaited him. 

Listen, pulling up the video feed had been a good idea at the time. And then this  _ guy  _ had wrapped himself around Tim's older, angry, emotionally constipated brother, and Jason had melted. Like an ice cube. Like Barbara fawning over tech, like Harley over Joker, like Penguin over guns. Like, well, Tim knew love when he saw it. 

Tim also knew unfiltered shock when he saw it, and if it were for any other reason, he would have peed himself laughing at the range of emotions and colours flitting over Damian's face. Barbara was clearly just as dumbfounded, but covered it better. Bruce, standing behind all three kids crowded around the monitor, was motionless. Not ‘I didn't realize my son could actually be this stupid’ motionless, just plain old Bat style motionless. He knew something, Tim figured.

Tim was almost relieved when the dude (boyfriend?) pulled the knife back out. Knives, they could deal with. Jason and knives they could deal with. But noooo, Jason just had to  _ grab his hand. _ Tim was pretty sure Barbara had stopped breathing. And,  _ it worked?  _ The two just sat down, and Jason talked and they both laughed. And then the guy had touched Jason, his face, and Tim watched his older brother just be happy. There wasn't a single taut muscle in his body. It was like watching a stranger. But here, now, in the Cave, Tim turned to Jason. His Jason. Only, Tim realized quite painfully, this may not be the  _ real  _ Jason.

“What intel were you able to gain?” Batman asked. Bruce, unable to deal with emotions, had flicked the bat switch. Jason and Barbara both paused at the top of the stairs. Jason looked calm, even if he was wearing his lying face. 

“I know one of the sellers in Gotham. They're going to be selling Vengeance soon, we might be able to witness its effects first hand, and get an idea on the types of buyers.” Barbara gave Tim a Look. The guy had barely said three words after the almost knifing, where was this info in all that? The Cave was silent, Batman was waiting. Tim watched the tautness work itself back through Jason. “No, you pulled me into this, these are my people, my intel, you can't just drag me in and push me out as you deem fit. I'm in this now thanks to you, and I'm staying in.” Batman glared, but Jason had a point. 

“Bruce,” Barbara cut in smoothly. “you know he's right. Jason, give us what you got and the five of us will deal with it together.” Jason and Damian both scoffed, but Tim figured it had more to do with the word 'together’ than actually having an issue. Jason looked at Barbara, nodded, and made his way to Tim’s right at the computer. 

“Casper Fields.” Tim started typing, hoping that wherever that was was in Gotham. He felt Damian on his left. 

“Casper Fields?” Damian was as clueless as him, which made him feel better. Bruce was behind the chair Tim was in, Barbara had inched behind Damian. Two bats, two birds, and a hood crowded around a computer, there had to be a joke here somewhere. 

“That's an old name, forgotten by most in the city nowadays.” Bruce's glance flicked to Jason before back to the screen. “You three would just know it as the old fairgrounds. Why there though? It's easily accessible to the public, visible from the air, and poor surroundings if any, disagreements, arise.” 

Jason shrugged. “It's the outskirts of town, and no family, cult, or gang has laid claim to it so it's neutral territory. The air accessibility could be useful for a getaway. And there's poor cover like you said, which means getting in there unnoticed will be an issue for us. I just know that's where we need to be, 8pm, the twenty fifth.” Very specific, Tim noted, maybe the mystery guy will be there, as the seller? Or a buyer? 

“And who, pray tell, is this seller?” Damian asked. 

Jason grimaced. “Not anyone good.” He swallowed. “Slade Wilson.” There was a beat of silence, then two. 

“Wait,” Barbra spoke. “Slade Wilson? Like gun for hire Deathstroke? Like clearly not businessman Deathstroke?” Jason nodded. “But why?” 

Bruce grunted, pushing through them to access the keyboard in front of Tim. “Same reason he does anything. Someone paid him well, and when your salesperson is also your security, well.” Files on Slade covered the screen. How many are helpful though, Tim wondered. 

Jason cleared his throat. “Hey I'm not a fan of Slade, but last I heard,” there was a pause, ‘heard from your guy’, Tim figured. “last I heard, he was working for some group called H.I.V.E. Nothing really serious, but fanatics. There's something to do with his ex-wife or something, the details are fuzzy, but if this is them, they should be pretty easy to take down, the drug itself will be more of an issue than the people behind it.” 

“Did you know Slade was involved in this?” Bruce questioned. 

Jason gave him a Look. “No.” He left little room for discussion. Bruce stared at Jason for a minute longer, but Jason ignored him, scanning the files in front of them. Bruce nodded to himself. 

“So what’s the game plan?” Barbara asked. 

  
  


Tim saw Jason more in the next week and a half than he had in the last six months, which, surprisingly, was nice. There were complications, with Damian and Bruce, and with the case in general, Jason would only talk semi freely, and only with Barbara and Tim, but it was good. Tim tried, really really tried, to look past the angry, gun wielding, post-Lazarus Jason he knew, and find the 2am bank rooftop Jason. It was difficult, Jason had walls to rival the Pentagon. Still, somehow, they functioned, a game plan was formed, and the twenty fifth rolled up quickly. It was basic, just watch and gain intel, but the fields had minimal cover, none of them knew how many buyers and thugs would be there, and Slade Wilson was a potential issue all in himself. And Jason was nervous. He would deny it to his second death, but Tim saw it, because he was looking. 

Jason let himself be cornered the night before the mission. “Jason, I, I have reason to believe, someone you know well may be there tomorrow night.” Jason’s face went stormy, his eyes flashing that scary green. Tim realized his mistake when Jason slammed him against the wall, his extra head of height and good hundred some odd pounds making Tim cower unintentionally. 

“You don’t know shit Replacement so shut the fuck up.”

“I’m not, Jason I’m not judging, I’m honestly trying to help.” The pressure on his chest increased so he started talking faster. “If someone is there, and if stuff goes awry, I want to know what to do to help. Cause you don’t want Bruce to know, and if he gets his hands on that person-”

“He won’t!” 

Tim realized three things at once. One, Jason was afraid. Two, it took spying on Jason to realize he wasn’t as one dimensional as they all thought. Three, no one else was going to gain the knowledge Tim now had unless something major changed. 

“Then tell me how I can help guarantee that, Jason!” Tim watched Jason reign himself in, pulling away from Tim completely. They stared at each other. Tim swallowed. Jason clenched his hands. 

“You spied on me.” He hissed. So much for hiding behind Barbara. 

“Yes.” Jason’s jaw clenched.

“I should kick your ass.”

“But you won’t. For him. Bruce can’t plan for what he doesn’t know, so let me.” Jason rolled his shoulders back.

“Fine.” He bit out. “But I’m kicking your ass after this.” Tim figured that was fair. “If things go sideways, let me deal with him, none of you can get involved. Seriously, he could really hurt any of you, and he will if he has to.” Of course none of them could ever care about someone  _ less  _ dangerous than themselves.

“And if he goes after one of us?” Jason shook his head. 

“If he does, it’ll be either me or Bruce. I’ll, I’ll intercept him. Just keep your distance from him, and keep Damian and Barbara away.” Tim nodded, he could help Jason like this.

“But this is all contingency anyways, Jason. It’ll all be fine.” Jason didn’t respond.

  
  


It was already dark by eight. Jason did another mental check of everything on his

person. Combat knife in his boot, pistols on both thighs, explosives and smoke grenades around his waist, grappling gun in his jacket, a taser at Barbara’s insistence. There was a magazine in one of his pockets, gifted from Barbara as well. The bullets were something she and Tim had been working on, without Bruce’s knowledge. They required the bullet to lodge into the body, but given enough time, the point would dissolve and trackers would enter the blood steam. Very invasive, very painful wound, near impossible to recognize and remove the trackers. Unfortunately, Barbara had informed him, the trackers died out in about a week, it was a work in progress. If things went wrong, they could be the difference between losing all intel and actually progressing further. Jason didn’t want things to go wrong. 

He stretched his leg out, groaning when his knee popped. The five of them had been here for about 45 minutes already, to improve the chance of not being spotted. The comm. in his helmet buzzed, Batgirl murmuring, “Five SUVs coming from the northwest. Tinted windows, can’t see much.” Batman grunted an acknowledgement. Was his birdy in one of those cars? The encounter with Tim yesterday had shaken him. 

Robin chirped in his ear now. “There’s a helicopter coming in from the east. Army grade.”

“That’s Slade.” Jason stated.

“We discussed this.” Bruce now. “We are to gain information.  _ If  _ our hand is forced, myself and Batgirl are to retrieve Vengeance, Red Robin see what other intel you can gather, Hood and Robin cover us.” There had been much disagreement back in the Cave prior to coming to the fields on what everyone’s jobs were if this turned bad. Damian didn’t want to do the same thing as Jason, Jason silently didn’t want to be that far away from Dick, Tim thought he would be more in the way than anything, Barbara thought Jason would be better to go with Bruce, Bruce unspokenly didn’t want Jason where he couldn’t be seen. Alfred had vetoed all of them and layed down the plan. 

So here they were, Jason sprawled across a roof on the edge of the open field, where he knew the big top would have been. Batman and Robin were both across the field, Red Robin and Batgirl were watching both entrances and would both be making their way towards the field, Batgirl carefully trailing the SUVs. 

The SUVs pulled into the field, forming a loose semi-circle on the edge. Thugs had such a dull look, it was so easy to see who was in charge. A buyer slid out of the passenger seat of each car. Tony Li, Manuel Escabedo, Alexandra Kosov, Tobias Whale, and Dragos Ibanescu, that bitch. Such a wide range, a triad, a cartel, two mobs, and a crime lord Jason had been trying to bring down for a long time. It was clear each group didn’t know the other would be there, there was anxious shifting and gun readjusting and icy glares. Jason knew a bad situation when he saw it. 

Jason’s hair whipped around his face as a dark green helicopter touched down in the center of the field. The engine cut and the door on the side slid open, a small man in all black slid out, holding a metal briefcase in his hand. Jason stared. 

As usual, Dick took his breath away. The wind from the dying copter blades stirred his hair, and even in the few movements he had performed it was clear he had more grace than any other here, Bat or not. The bruise on his face was gone, and a knife sharp grin was in place. 

Jason could practically feel Tim staring at him from his right. 

Dick scanned the field, masked eyes passing by Jason and taking in the small mob nearby. 

Slade Wilson dropped out of the helicopter with the force of a steel anvil. He also did a small sweep, more for show than anything. They were both relaxed, the Bats had gone unnoticed. Slade said something to Dick, impossible to tell what with the face mask and Batgirl’s mic was still recovering from the helicopter noise. It was just the two of them it seemed, as they strode halfway to the buyers, Dick looking like a kid next to Slade. The thugs moved next, protecting their bosses, to mirror. The two groups stood a distance apart. Jason’s comm. whined slightly, Batgirl messing with the mics. 

“Deathstroke.” Alexandra stepped forward. Jason had always appreciated her ballsiness. “When I was contacted, I was expecting something… better.” Dick took a stride forward but was stopped by Slade putting a hand on his shoulder. Alexandra gave him a pointed look, he smirked back. 

“If you are no longer interested you know where the exit is.” Slade was slightly muted behind the mask. Ametuer. One of Whale’s thugs snickered, Alexandra drew herself up to her full height, made more impressive in her heels, and slowly stepped back into the mix of men.

“Well let’s see why we’re here then, Deathstroke.” Tony Li spoke around his cigarette. Slade nodded at Dick, who swung the case into his arms and popped it open. Jason’s view was blocked, he figured Batgirl or Batman and Robin would be able to see in. Whatever it was enticed all five possible buyers to approach it. “This is your Vengeance?” Li asked.

“Brand new in America.” Slade responded. “Colourless, odourless, tasteless, can be applied to food, drink, even through skin with a high enough dose. Perfect for blackmailing, kidnapping, and those pretty girls you like.” The last bit was directed at Dragos. Jason was mentally reciting every swear word he knew in every language. He could only imagine the brood emanating from Bruce right now. “Bidding starts at five thousand.” 

“Now hold on a minute.” Whale started, “How do we know this is the real stuff, no colour or taste or smell. Sounds like somethin you and your bitch might fake to gain a lil extra dough.”

“I have seen Vengeance in action in Japan.” Escabedo spoke up, surprisingly soft. “It is impossible to be mistaken as anything else. However, perhaps a demonstration? Your - boy here?”

Dragos guffawed. “Yeah, you talk about my pretty girls, how ‘bout your own pretty little whore?” 

Before any of the idiots could process what was happening, Jason watched as Dick grabbed something out of the case, shut and dropped it on the ground, and stabbed one of Dragos’ thugs in the neck with a dose of Vengeance. Everyone scattered steps back, a loose ring around Dick and the thug holding his neck, stumbling and cursing. There were a few murmurs of how Vengeance didn’t work. Dick stepped into the guy’s space, pressing a finger to the guys lips. “Shhhh.” The guy immediately shut up, staring dumbly at Dick. “How ya feeling hot stuff?” The guy nodded drunkenly, lips flapping. 

“Y-yeah, yeah real good if you want.” Dick’s smile was feral; the buyers and their thugs were afraid, and intrigued.

“If I want? I want you to do something for me, okay?” Dick was circling the thug like a predator, stopping behind him. His fingers danced over Thug’s shoulders, Dick stood on his tip toes to breathe into Thug’s ear. Thug kept nodding dumbly. 

“Yeah, anything you want, tell me what you want, I’ll do it, whatever you want.” 

“Get on your knees.” The guy practically fell in his eagerness. Jason was again coming to terms with the fact that as much as he worshipped soft, gentle, kind Dick, this wild, dangerous Dick also flipped all of Jason’s switches to On. Dick tangled his lithe fingers into the thug’s short hair, tugged his head back. “Do you think I’m pretty, is that it? Jealous I’m not yours?” The thug thought - maybe, it was hard to tell if anything was going on behind his bleary eyes. 

“Ye-yeah. You’re real purty, I want you.” Dick hummed. The buyers were enraptured. 

“Mmm you’ll get me big guy, but first you gotta ask something of me.” Confusion was evident on the guys face. “I want you to beg me.” Dick continued, speaking directly into Thug’s ear. “Beg me to kill you.” 

A distant part of Jason, the part trained by Batman, realized how fucking screwed they all were if Vengeance spread, realized how deadly and impossible to track down it was. Another part knew Jason didn’t want Dick to kill this guy, not when Jason was this close and could stop it and it was unnecessary. The biggest part, was turned on, and also knew Bruce would throw him out of Gotham if he messed this up, so he laid and watched. 

The thug was rambling. “Please, please, kill me. I want it I want it so bad please kill me. However you want please just kill me.” It was almost pathetic if it wasn’t so real. Alexandra was laughing, Li’s cigarette was dangling dangerously out of his mouth, the thugs all seemed to be realizing that could have been one of them. 

Dick looked at Slade, who nodded minutely. One of Dick’s hands untangled itself and slid a thin blade neatly across the thug’s throat. Blood spurted out messilly, staining the pants of the nearest thugs, before oozing sluggishly down to the grass, painting it black. The thug dies with a blissed out smile on his face and Dick unceremoniously lets the body drop to the ground after wiping the blade on the dead guy’s shoulder. Dick straightens up, smiling, looks at the group down a person, smiling, trots back to Slade’s side, smiling, and Jason is turned off disgustingly and quickly.

Suddenly he wants this to be over, wants to be baking cookies with Alfred, wants to be in bed, wants to be a week and a half ago laughing with Dick. 

Slade scooped the briefcase off the ground, one arm being held by Dick. “Now, I would offer we try this again, but seeing how one of you were simple enough to be trailed by Batman…” The thugs moved almost in sync, all pointing their guns wildly into the trees. Argument broke out, each boss demanding they weren’t trailed, everyone on edge. Dick locked eyes with Jason. Jason let out a soft, ‘Fuck’. Of course Dick would have to tell Slade eventually. 

Robin burst out of the trees. Jason swore again, louder, as gunfire lit up the field. The helicopter was starting up, Alexandra and Escabedo were halfway to their vehicles. Red Robin and Batgirl jumped into the field. Jason swore a third time, just for the hell of it, before abandoning his spot. Like hell was he staying where he was supposed to be when Robin clearly wasn’t. Jason started shooting, non-lethal, taking down a few thugs surrounding Batgirl. Dragos’ men started firing back, they recognized Red Hood well enough after the last few months. Slade and Vengeance were both a lost cause, Slade mere steps away from the helicopter. Batman was to Jason’s right charging after Slade but Jason watched him go down in a mass of black. Dick had gotten Bruce to the ground and had him in a nasty bind, his specialty, Jason had been on the receiving end enough times to know. Jason paused, shot, the bullet whizzed harmlessly past Dick’s ear. It startled him enough for Batman to break free, tossing Dick across the field, who unsurprisingly landed fine, crouched low. An SUV sped off, there were thugs down everywhere. Dick pounced at Jason, going for a high kick. Jason grabbed his leg, but the other looped around his neck, throwing him off balance. Jason counterbalanced as Dick spun them around, got a grip on both legs and pushed off. The two rolled apart, neither smiling as they faced each other. 

A whistle pierced the air - Slade, the helicopter already half a dozen feet off the ground. Dick winked at Jason and booked it towards Slade, weaving harmlessly around Red Robin, who did little to stop him. Jason thought fast. This was the Plan Z, where everything went to hell. He reloaded his gun as Dick jumped straight up, clinging onto the landing skid. Robin fought one of Whale’s thugs as he aimed, someone who had gotten left behind in the rush. Jason pulled the trigger, and shot the only person he cared about in the shoulder blade. Dick yelped, his hand slipped. Blood poured down his back, there would be no exit wound. Jason turned away as Slade pulled Dick up by the collar like a kitten and threw him uncaringly into the helicopter. 

Jason watched the last few people load into their vehicles. He shot Dragos for purely selfish reasons, watched the weasel fall into the passenger seat, already searching for the exit wound Jason knew he wouldn’t find. He turned again, watched the helicopter leave as his family rushed around the left behind thugs, tying them up, making sure Jason hadn’t done anything ‘uncalled for’. 

He avoided Tim’s gaze as he left, tried not to think about the fact Bruce didn’t even try to stop him, or about what Damian was definitely saying about him, or about how Barbara was probably regretting forcing Bruce to include him in this. The one person Jason wanted right now was flying to god knows where, bleeding because of him.


	3. Third

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consensual drug use, slight violence, beginnings of a panic attack, and referenced prostitution. I hope I'm remembering everything each chapter has so much shit I never know if I flag everything... Basically proceed at your own risk...  
> Again a huge massive thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the nice comments on this purely self indulgent mess, it means so much to me!!!!  
> Hope you enjoy :)

Dick awoke in pain. That wasn’t out of the ordinary. He forced his eyes open and took stock. He was on the helicopter floor still, on his side. Dick breathed in, he could feel the bullet in his shoulder.

“Richard.” Dick sat up, ignored the fuzziness in the corners of his vision. Slade was standing above him, maskless. “Did you tell me as soon as you knew we had company?” Dick hadn’t noticed Slade had a foot on Dick’s ankle until Slade put his weight down. Dick thought belatedly he needed his ankle in working condition. He shook his head, not meeting Slade’s eye. The pressure increased, something made a cracking noise, it hurt a lot. 

“No, Master.” The pain didn’t stop. 

“Why not?” Slade was pissed, capitol p. 

“I-I wanted an audience.” Not quite a lie, he wanted Jason to see him, let Little Wing know he was still alive. Slade lifted his foot - Dick sucked in a relieved breath - and slammed it back down. Dick numbly watched his foot twist to an awkward angle and didn’t scream. It wasn’t broken, Slade was too meticulous, but Dick would be in the older man’s favourite condition for a while - in need of assistance. Slade watched him squirm trying not to show pain before kneeling beside him. Dick looked up slightly, trying to get a read on Slade, and was grabbed by the throat and slammed back into the floor. A tear escaped his eye as his shoulder painfully met the metal, but he didn’t make a noise. Slade pushed hard on his windpipe and leaned in close in mockery of Dick’s own actions earlier. 

“What you just failed to do will cost me greatly Richard. You promised me you would behave, and you didn’t, you know what that means, don’t you?” Dick couldn’t nod even if he wanted to. “Vengeance will be H.I.V.E.’s greatest creation, they can’t allow for mistakes like you. Now,” Slade sat back, keeping Dick pinned lightly. “Plans will have to be remade. You make me look bad, Richard. And, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted _ Batman  _ to see you. Like he would ever want to help someone like you. You are mine, Richard. You have always been mine.” With that Slade stood, leaving Dick on the ground gasping. Slade stared down at him. “I will remove that bullet when we land, consider it your first warning.” Dick nodded distantly, letting the full body pain course through him. 

Slade left to the cockpit and Dick wormed his way towards the nearest window, before realizing he could only see his own reflection in the dark glass. The bullet itched, he could feel the drying blood on his back. Jason had shot him. Dick  _ had  _ told Slade Batman was there, but he  _ had  _ to, Jason knew that. Dick hoped Jason didn’t hate him, he didn’t think he would know what to do with himself if he never saw Jason again. Dick closed his eyes and rested his head against the window. He didn’t know where they were going, he just knew he didn’t want to. He’d fucked up, and now he’d pay for it. But Jason had needed,  _ wanted,  _ him, and there would never come a day where Dick put his own safety over Jason’s needs. His throat burned, he wondered when he’d be allowed to have a drink. Dick drifted into an uneasy sleep. 

Dick awoke to pain, again. His shoulder was on fire and he was shirtless, pinned face down. Dick flailed, trying to get a hold on his attacker, twisting fruitlessly, but a large hand shoved his face into a … bed? “Relax, Richard.” Slade rumbled above him. Dick froze, breathing heavy. Slade released his head and pushed into his middle back instead. “You are always so dramatic.” Dick could feel fresh blood running off his side. He whined as Slade’s forceps dug in. Dick felt the bullet slide out, he let some of the tension run out of his body. Slade shifted above him, probably grabbing bandages. “If you were wondering,” Dick hissed internally as rubbing alcohol was applied. “We are in Washington.” Dick hadn’t even known Slade had a safehouse in Washington. Bandages were pressed to his back, and the sound of tearing medical tape was loud in the quiet. The bed shifted, Dick sat up to see Slade stand. “You will stay here, I have new business to attend to, thanks to you.” 

“How long will you be gone?” Slade raised an eyebrow, stared down disapprovingly.

“Does it matter to you, Richard?” Dick fumbled for words, he wanted to say yes, he wanted to know what freedom he had, when he could eat, when they would go back to Gotham, and Jason. He couldn’t though. Slade backhanded him, Dick’s hair got in his eyes as his head snapped around. “I will be back when I am back. Behave, Richard, I will know if you don’t.” Dick nodded, staring at his knees. He listened as Slade walked around wherever they were, collecting things, and as he made his way back to the bed. Dick didn’t struggle as Slade grabbed his hair and forced his head up. He didn’t struggle as Slade left a hickey on his throat, a claim to property. Slade hummed approvingly, walked away. The door opened, closed, locked. Dick stared at his knees and tried not to think about what a hickey from Jason would feel like.

After a while, Dick looked around. He was in an open floor penthouse, very modern. Slade always was a sucker for beautiful safe houses. He explored, slowly, sorely. There was a small collection of food, which was good, and running water, which was better. A lack of clothing his size led Dick to keep padding around in his tights. The locked door to the outside and another locked door Dick didn’t try to get into. Dick watched life go by out the giant windows 84 floors above ground and wished they opened.

  
  


Jason was lost. Not literally, he was in one of his favourite safe houses in Bludhaven. But he was at a loss of what to do. The tracker on, or in, technically, Dragos had worked its magic, and had led Jason straight to a number of underground sex trafficking rings, which no longer existed. But the tracker on Dick, the one that had been in Washington for the past week, unmoving, had flickered out. Jason half heartedly cursed Barbara’s name, and thought. Go to Washington, potentially find Dick’s dead body, potentially get killed by Slade, potentially find nothing. Stay in Bludhaven, and do nothing. See what Roy and Kori were up to. Go to Gotham, and cause a little trouble for Bruce. Jason hadn’t heard anything from any Bat since what happened at the fairgrounds. Not that he blamed them, it was Jason’s fault they were found out, and Jason’s fault he didn’t shoot someone more important. But hey, they would still be in the dark about Vengeance otherwise. He thumped his head against the desk, and shot back up when his phone rang. He stared at the caller ID, contemplated letting it go to voicemail. The empty map on his computer judged him. Jason picked the phone up. “What?”

“You still about this Vengeance thing?”

“Was that a pun, Timothy? I’m shocked.”

“Hardy har. Look-” There was shuffling on the other end, Tim talking to someone else, more shuffling. Jason closed the map. Tim was slightly quieter, “Look, Barbara and I are going out tonight-”

“Ooooh, finally stepping it up I see.”

“Jason I swear… The meeting at the fairgrounds gave us an idea on who to start looking for. I know your trackers have died out, and I know Dragos isn’t an issue anymore, so, as I was saying, Barbara and I are going to try to track down some of Maroney’s rings, see what we find regarding Vengeance. Bruce has reason to believe if Kosov and Whale have an interest in this, Maroney will too. Him and the brat are punching their way through the sellers they’ve found as we speak. I wanted you to come with us, we could use you if we do find anything serious.”

Jason contemplated it. He wasn’t doing anything currently other than wallowing, and Maroney needed a reminder anyways. “Just you two?” Tim hummed a positive. Jason didn’t believe wallowing was a good look on anyone, least of all him. “Yeah, alright, why not?”

He met them in Crown Point, all three of them were crouched above and across the road from an ‘abandoned’ warehouse. Apparently Catwoman had informed Batgirl the homeless stay far away from the place, but hadn’t had the time to look into it. Jason surveyed it. He knew he saw things the other two would never see, never having lived on the streets. It would be a prime structure for the homeless, so why wasn’t it? He glanced at Red Robin, who was staring intently at the holo-computer. Red shook himself into action, closing the computer, and giving both of them a nod. Company was coming. 

A ‘67 Shelby Cobra eased itself down the street. Jason, self proclaimed car connoisseur, took a moment to appreciate. The headlights were off, but the blonde hair of the passenger still stuck out poorly. The car backed into the alley on the corner, the doors opened and shut, disturbingly loud in the night silence. Around the corner walked a couple, dressed as if they were going to one of Bruce’s galas. Jason shared a look with the two Bats. The couple strolled down the road as if they owned it, and Jason realized, they just might. They ducked under the overhang, the man knocked on the rusted loading door and spoke through it. The door rolled up smoothly, revealing a handful of men in suits, clearly armed. The couple waltzed past the men, and the door was quickly sealed again.

Batgirl whispered, “That’s not abandoned.” Jason almost snorted.

“No shit. Those two are clearly here for something. Whether it’s girls, money, drugs, or Vengeance...” He shrugged.

“We need to get in there.” Red Robin muttered, tapping away at the computer. Blueprints glowed blue as he pulled them up. “There’s roof access, and I mean the front door is definitely an option, since they’re not using it.”

“The windows on the top floor aren’t all boarded either.” Batgirl added. Red took it into consideration.

Jason kicked the front door down very satisfyingly. Batgirl, in the ventilation, had informed the two this was definitely a slave trade, and definitely involved Vengeance. Red Robin had sworn like a sailor. He told Jason he was a bad influence. The poor, confused guards panicked, and started shooting at Jason blindly. He dropped a smoke pellet, took the very well dressed idiots down, and started trucking through the cement halls. Red Robin on the top floor had found some “Very interesting legal files. Shut up Hood, legal files can be cool-” that could properly condemn Maroney at the same time Jason found the false wall. Batgirl slid out of the ventilation above him. 

“There’s some old stairs behind this, I saw it on Red’s map earlier. It’s probably our best shot into the basement.” Jason wondered, not for the first time, when he was going to be able to crash an operation that had class.

“You mean _my_ best shot. The air ducts suit you. I’ll see you down there.” Batgirl rolled her eyes, but climbed back up, giving him a salute as she slid the grate back into place. Jason put his 240 pounds of muscle to use and crashed through the wall. There was another door at the bottom of the stairs, with voices and music leaking through. Jason could guess what was behind it, but he was literally walking in blind. He grabbed a pistol, and eased the door open a crack. 

The basement was small, considering it was under a warehouse. The cement floors were plastered with colourful carpets and rugs and low couches were arranged around the room. In the center was a raised cement pad, enclosed with shiny new bars. Inside, about 15 girls were sprawled out, in a euphoric and mostly naked state. Jason ground his teeth, watched the fancy men and women parade around the cell, ooh-ing and aww-ing and pointing like they were at the zoo. There were ten guards that he could see, something he could manage on his own, if he knew the guests weren’t armed, and if there weren’t innocent girls in the centre of the room. Jason growled.

Smoke started seeping out of the vents. All the pieces of shit were looking up, one by one. Jason slid the door open, took a chick in green out at the knees with his first shot. Her scream cut through the hazed mood, someone pulled an alarm, which started blaring annoyingly. Jason started shooting rapid fire as Batgirl dropped down onto two guards. He ignored Red Robin’s “Umm do you guys need help?” in his ear and rushed into the scene. He smashed a guys head against a guards, sidestepped the woman in green, pistol whipped a guy who tried to grab him. He found the door to the cell - the girls inside were crying, begging, still all half conscious. Jason turned his back on them and started shooting from his new point, keeping everyone as far away as possible from these girls. The blonde from earlier threw a knife she had pulled out of her hair at him. He took it in the shoulder with a grunt, better him than a girl behind him. The blaring stopped, Red finally getting with the program. Batgirl was at the entrance, effectively blocking everyone in. Red Robin appeared at the hidden door. Between the three of them the filth was taken down quickly.

Again, Jason let the other two deal with the bastards after the fight. He turned his attention to the cage and broke the lock with the butt of his gun. The girls poured out, physically terrified but mentally still dealing with Vengeance. They grabbed at him, tears staining most of their faces. “Alright.” He spoke above them, they all quieted. “All of you are okay. I want you all to find a couch and sit there till one of us says otherwise, okay.” Unsurprisingly, but still disgustingly, they all did as he said. What a hell of a drug, no, a weapon. Vengeance was a weapon. Speaking of which- Jason turned as Batgirl swore. He really was a bad influence wasn’t he? She was behind the bar, an open briefcase on top. There were just two small vials left in it, filled with a clear liquid. 

“At least we have it now, and we can figure out what it’s made of.” Red Robin offered, carefully plucking one out of the case. “I can probably run a basic analysis now, get a cure for these girls.” Jason shook his head.

“No cure, just gotta wait it out. I don’t know how long so don’t ask.” Batgirl rolled her eyes, pulled the vial out of Red’s hand, put it back in the case and closed it.

“I’ll call the Commish.” She stated, heading towards the entrance, leaving the case in their care. Jason looked at the girls lazing around. Most were asleep, their bodies not knowing how to deal with the adrenaline and Vengeance in their systems. Jason recognized a few of the older ones. Girls who had helped him when he was younger, brought him jackets in exchange for makeup and jewelry he pick pocketed. Now, there was a clear divide between him and them. He wanted to talk to them, help them, but he knew they’d only say what he wanted to hear. He raided the liquor before leaving, the wailing of the cop cars chasing him away. 

  
  


The next day found Jason hesitantly in the Cave. Alfred himself had called him, so he came. Bruce stared him down. “We’ve gotten a solid foothold on eradicating Vengeance, the damage should be minimal.” Jason huffed.

“That’s not a surprise. Why am I here?”

“You did not do as you were supposed to at the fairgrounds-”

“None of us did, am I really only here to get shit on? Cause I’m out.” Tim spun around in the chair by the computer. 

“He’s trying to thank you, Jason. Failing, but trying.” Jason scoffed, looked incredulously at Bruce.

“Yeah alright, see ya old man.”

“Jason, wait.” Bruce had taken a step towards him, seemingly without meaning to. “Tim’s right. Thank you. Without the knowledge you gave us we would still be in the dark on Vengeance. “ Jason clenched his jaw.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t for you.” His phone buzzed. He held Bruce’s gaze a second longer before pulling it out. It was from an unlisted number. He turned his back on the other two before opening it.

_ How well do you remember your Gotham nursery rhymes? See you soon ;) _

Jason stared at the screen, he knew better than to respond. Gotham nursery rhymes? Are there any specific to Gotham?

“Anything we can help with?” Hesitance was clear in Tim’s voice. The kid had been trying to talk to Jason more, which Jason was still unsure about how he felt about it. At least he was finally growing a spine. Gotham nursery rhymes?

“Maybe. Are there any nursery rhymes specific to Gotham, kid?” He didn’t turn back around, he didn’t want to know what Bruce was thinking. Tim hummed, the keyboard clicked.

“Nothing mainstream. I can ask around, but I mean, we’ve all lived here our whole lives. I’ve never heard anything and clearly you haven’t either.”

“There’s one.” Bruce cut in.

“Well that’s fine and dandy but I didn’t ask you.” Jason turned around and gave Bruce a look. Bruce’s face went stony.

“If you have any dealings with what I think it may be, this is something that involves much more than yourself, Jason.” Jason rolled his eyes. “There’s an old rhyme about the Court of Owls.” As soon as he said it, Jason remembered.

“Of course.” 

Tim shifted. “The Court of Owls?”

Jason shook his head. “That can’t be it, the Court is just a myth.”

“You want a Gotham nursery rhyme that’s  _ not  _ a myth? What the hell, Jason?” 

Bruce strode over to the computer. “They’re not a myth, Jason. I’ve dealt with them before, once, before I took you in.”

“Okay but  _ what _ is this  _ Court _ ?” Tim exclaimed, exasperated. Bruce opened a folder, most of the files were sparse with info, the few photos included were blurry. There was a list of names, or, the startings of one, there were only five.

“The Court of Owls,” Bruce started, “is a highly sophisticated, secret organization that is centuries old, with immense power and influence embedded into the very architecture and history of Gotham City. My ancestor Alan Wayne knew of them. They’re near impossible to track, I know, I’ve tried. They have assassins, called Talons. The nursery rhyme is a warning.” He brought a file to the front of the screen.

_ Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them, or they’ll send a Talon for your head. _

“That’s freaky.” Tim commented. “And you know all of this? But they still exist?”

“I have spent the last 14 years collecting what little information you see here. Like I said, they are so deep a part of Gotham, it is beyond difficult to find any trace of them. If, you” He directed this at Jason, “are potentially dealing with them, this is an issue that involves all of us.”

Tim frowned. “How did you first find out about them? I mean, fourteen years is a long time ago.” Bruce held Jason’s eyes as he answered.

“I was looking into the deaths of the family of a young boy named Richard Grayson.” Jason failed to hide his shock, he knew Bruce picked up on it. He blinked rapidly, tried to recover.

“He’s dead too, though.”

“Is he?” Anxiety coursed through Jason. Did Bruce know? How? How long? He licked his lips, ignored his short breathing.

“Yes. And what does he have to do with the Court anyways?” Tim watched them like he was watching a tennis match.

“The Court was supposed to take him in, after his parents died, but I never found a trace of him with them.” Jason snorted unintentionally.

“Jason?” Tim was slowly connecting the dots Jason had spent the last ten years covering up.

“Can it, Replacement.” Jason refused to do this now, or ever. It was none of their business anyways, he never should have asked about the text. Jason didn’t owe either of them shit, and Bruce would force himself into the situation and make everything worse and Jason had almost lost Dick too many times already and-”

“Jason, breathe.” Bruce’s voice cut through his thoughts. Jason sucked a breath in, avoided both of their eyes, and turned to flee like the coward he was. Bruce grabbed his arm mid step. Jason swung around, muscle memory wrenching himself free, pushing Bruce as far back as he could. “Jason, please.” Bruce gave him a look he hadn’t seen directed at him since he was Robin, that sad, old look, something you would see on a Vet, not a playboy like Bruce. “I’ve known about Richard for a long time.” Jason vehemently shook his head, his two worlds weren’t allowed to intertwine. “If this is about him, let us help-” Jason, to put it lightly, lost his shit.

“You don’t know anything, Bruce! About him, or this, or fuck even me! And all this bullshit about  _ helping _ ?! Fuck off! You really think you can just drop something like this and just  _ expect  _ me to roll with it? I don’t know why or how you think you know anything about Dick, but he  _ is not your business _ !-”

“He found me!” Bruce bellowed, taking an aggressive step towards Jason. “When you died, he found me! I had my suspicions, but after you… I was on patrol, looking for Harley, and this  _ kid  _ appeared on the rooftop I was on. He told me you were the most important thing to him, gave me the same kind of hell you did when you came back, about letting you die, and then attacked me. Nearly killed me, actually, I woke up in Leslie’s clinic. I still don’t know how I got there. I know about him because he wanted me to. And I’ve kept it to myself, because I knew you would be angry, but if the Court has appeared again, you need to accept our help, because we will anyways.”

Silence made itself known in the Cave. Jason was staring at Bruce, looking like a lost kid. Bruce had reigned himself in and was looking back impassively. Tim was invisible in the big chair. Jason searched Bruce’s eyes for ... something, his eyebrows were scrunched together, lips pressed into a line. Jason shook his head again slightly. He opened his mouth, closed it, and left silently. Bruce let him, staring after his eldest.


	4. Fourth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is the worst chapter of the lot so just a warning of rape and non-graphic prostitution !!!  
> Thanks to everyone sticking with this shitshow, it really means a lot to me!

Dick was doing pull ups in the bedroom door frame, fingers barely clutching onto the few centimetres of wood. It was day seven of being ‘in solitary’, and he was stir crazy, despite his ankle still being pretty useless. He’d people watched, ate, showered, all things usually limited to him, but now, without a fight, fuck, or mission, he was just plain bored. He dropped to the floor lightly as he hit one hundred, leaned in the frame catching his breath. 

A grating noise had him on alert, he spun around as the door leading to the world opened. Dick breathed lightly as Slade appeared, slamming the door behind him and re-locking it. Dick flitted over to the older man. He had missed Slade, he had discovered years ago how much he hated being alone, and Slade always came back for him, he was the only one who did. Dick reached the older man, who let him approach without issue. Dick ran his hands up Slade’s arms, not meeting his eye. Slade chuckled, he knew exactly what forcing Dick to be alone did to him.

Suddenly, Slade scooped him up and Dick was forced to wrap his legs around Slade’s waist and cling onto the back of the man’s shirt for stability. Slade examined Dick like he was a piece of art he was contemplating buying. They were moving, Dick’s bare back was pressed against a wall and he inhaled lightly at the chill, arching towards Slade. “Richard.” Dick rested his head against the wall and let his eyes slide close. “You didn’t think you would get off this easy, did you?” Dick’s head snapped up as he opened his mouth to say something only to have Slade’s tongue forced down his throat. His head slammed back against the wall from the force of it. Dick couldn’t breathe, this was a shitty way to pass out. He bit Slade’s tongue, who recoiled quickly. Dick gulped in air as Slade called him a little bitch. Adrenaline was making his whole body tingle. He  _ had  _ thought he’d get off that easy, actually. Slade pulled him off the wall, keeping a death grip on Dick’s thighs as he squirmed. There was a difference between wanting a good fucking and wanting the shit beaten out of you. Slade strode across the flat, sucking a new hickey onto Dick’s throat. Dick pulled at Slade’s hair hard and whined high.

Slade threw him onto the bed and Dick immediately tried to sit up. Slade whipped his belt out of its loops, folded it in half, and hit Dick across the chest with it, making him recoil back into the bed. Dick hated how hard it was to separate ‘Slade’ from ‘pain’. Slade straddled Dick, his extra weight once again to his benefit, and grabbed both of Dick’s thin wrists in his empty hand. Dick struggled, tried to free his arms as they were forced above his head and tied to the headboard painfully with the belt. Angry tears welled in his eyes, no, no, he didn’t want to hurt, not now. “Vengeance has been ruined before it could properly begin. Does that make you happy, Richard?” Slade dragged his hand over the red welt running over Dick’s chest. Dick gasped out a no as Slade’s touch turned feather light, running up his sides. “No, what?” Slade pinched one of Dick’s nipples and pulled hard enough to be more pain than pleasure. Dick’s back arched subconsciously, trying to stop the pain.

“No, Master. No, it doesn’t. Please.” Slade released him, leaned over and sucked on the nipple instead. Dick slumped into the bed, gasping. Slade ran his hands up Dick’s taut arms, massaging as he went. He switched to the other nipple. Dick was melting, mewling loudly. Then Slade tugged harshly on Dick’s arms, making the belt dig into his wrists further, and bit the nipple he was sucking on. Dick gasped in pain as Slade sat up. He hated this, the pain, then pleasure, then pain, pleasure, over and over, never knowing when Slade was going to switch. Dick thought he should be used to it by now. Slade climbed off him, left the room silently. Dick caught his breath, tried to prepare himself for the night ahead. He loved Slade, or he thought this was what love had to be, but he hated when Slade hurt him, and even more so when he got off on it. Slade reemerged in the doorway shirtless, gaze sweeping over his tied up prize.

“You have destroyed H.I.V.E., without even leaving this flat. If you weren’t mine, it’d be impressive.” Slade stalked forwards, Dick tensed as the man crouched by his head. A blindfold came at him, he tried to dodge it, but it was pretty futile and they both knew it. “You’re going to regret doing that, Richard.” Slade’s voice floated around him after his eyes were covered. Dick was hyper aware of the leather on his wrists, the shifting of Slade’s pants as he moved around, every sound and sensation. His breathing sped up unintentionally. “You see, now, the Court has finally deemed you fit. If you hadn’t pulled that stunt, you could have stayed with me, you know I treat you better than they ever will.” Dick’s tights were pulled off of him roughly. He barely processed what Slade was saying as he ran his fingers up Dick’s leg, curving into his inner thigh. Dick eagerly spread his legs, Slade chuckled darkly at the action. Slade ever so slightly teased at Dick’s briefs, causing him to moan, before digging his nails in and dragging them back down, immediately leaving four lines of fire down his thigh. Dick hissed, tried to bring his legs into his chest, but his ankles were grabbed, forced back down and quickly tied to the footboard. 

Slade tutted. “We will be travelling back to Gotham, Richard.” Slade’s hands gripped Dick’s hip bones, scraped at the flesh slightly. “The Court wants to collect you. A shame, really, fourteen years out the window, because they believe you are finally, competent. Nothing of their own doing obviously, and what do I get? Aside from the money agreed upon when I took you for them.” Slade started sucking hickeys eagerly on Dick’s stomach, pausing every now and then to continue his spiel. “You will miss me, won’t you? Still think of me when you touch yourself?” Dick yelped as a hickey turned into a bite mark. Dick was positive Slade had broken skin. “I was asking myself why I ever agreed to train you for them, but then I remembered-” One of Slade’s hands had palmed him through his briefs. Dick moaned and squirmed, trying to create friction. “I remembered how beautiful you are, even when you were young. Do you remember how you screamed the first time I fucked you? You couldn’t walk straight for days.” Slade had made his way up his throat, breathed the last part into Dick’s ear before sucking on Dick’s earlobe. Dick didn’t remember the first years with Slade, honestly, but he was sure that was what happened. He giggled at how little he remembered. He felt Slade smile, probably thinking Dick was laughing at the memory. “We’re going to do something different now, Richard.” Dick immediately tensed, nothing involving the word ‘new’ while being tied up naked and blindfolded was good. “Since you’ve fucked my plans up more than I could ever perceive, I’m going to fuck you up more than you could perceive.” Dick started panicking, flailing as much as he could. Slade straddled him again and grabbed Dick’s chin painfully hard, forcing his head still. Dick sucked in short breaths. Something cold pressed against his neck, a sharp pinch made him twitch, and cold swept through him from the point of the pinch. Slade released his jaw, but Dick didn’t move, just closed his eyes behind the blindfold and heaved in shaky breaths. Dick wrapped his fingers around the belt, the only thing keeping him grounded. Slade sat quietly and watched Dick try to fight the effects of Vengeance. The last thing he really processed was the sobs escaping from his lips.

Dick slid himself blearily out from the sheets in the morning. He took a step, half collapsed, recovered quietly, and took stock. A quick glance in the mirror on the wall showed he was black and blue with hickeys and proper bruises. His wrists and ankles were destroyed from the belt and whatever Slade had used on his ankles. Dick scrubbed at his eyes, felt the soreness in his arms, and painfully stretched. His ass hurt, unsurprisingly. His jaw, his head, it’d be easier to list what didn’t hurt. Slade was passed out in the bed still. The thing about fucking old guys is they crashed hard afterwards, and Slade, despite his meta status, wasn’t an exception. Dick rubbed his temples, tried to remember what Slade had been ranting about. Everything after Vengeance was a black hole, probably for the best. But there was something about the Court, something Slade hadn’t talked about in years. The Court was taking Dick in, like they were supposed to when he was eight. He didn’t remember what had changed when he was younger, but Slade had told him forever ago he was preparing Dick for his future, and eventually ‘their time together would come to an end.’ When he was younger, Dick faintly remembered he had dreamt of a life without Slade, like a life he remembered only in his dreams now, full of bright colours and animals and noise. Now, though, the thought was impossible. Slade was the only constant in his life, the only person who cared for him, Dick owed his life to Slade. No, that wasn’t true. Jason cared for him. But Jason had left him. Dick huffed at himself. He shuffled towards Slade’s discarded clothes, crouched with a quiet groan, and fished around till he found Slade’s phone. He stood carefully. Slade had forced Dick to teach himself how to hack, never expecting the skill to be used against him. Dick quickly got into the device, pulled up the texting, and entered a number he knew by heart.

_ How well do you remember your Gotham nursery rhymes? See you soon ;) _

He sent it before he could regret it, and quickly cleared all evidence and stashed the phone back where he found it. He padded to the bathroom, wanting to clean his wrists and ankles before Slade woke up.

Jason ran into Dick the same day he’d freaked in the Cave. It was much later, sometime after midnight - so okay, not technically the same day - and Jason was in his civies, sliding through the back of a ‘gentlemen’s club’ where the private dances and gross shit happen. A curtain to his left moved slightly, and Dick slunk out. They both stopped in their tracks, just staring at each other. Dick tried to say something but Jason, trying to cover up his emotions, beat him to it. “So who’s dick were you sucking?” Hurt clouded Dick’s face, made more noticeable by the lack of anything covering his pretty blues.

“Someone who had useful information.” Even his voice sounded hurt. He brushed by Jason, towards the back entrance, but Jason followed him. Dick looked awful. He was paler than normal, and was walking stiffly, both things making warning signals go off in Jason’s head. The two came out into the alleyway and Jason pulled Dick back to face him, Dick’s flinch not going unnoticed. 

“What did he do to you, prettybird? And what did that text mean? Why are you in Gotham after a  _ week  _ in Washington?” Dick pulled his arm back, Jason caught a glimpse of bandages sticking out under the long sleeve. 

“I didn’t text you anything. I don’t, I don’t even know-. I need to go I don’t have time, it’s happening tomorrow. Just,” Dick had been looking everywhere frantically, but now stared Jason in the eyes. “I’m leaving. You won’t see me anymore, it’s what’s supposed to happen.” He started rambling again almost deliriously. Jason tried to follow, but dealing with Dickie after Slade had messed with him was always near impossible.

“Okay.” He cut in, trying to sound calm and soothing like Barbara. “Okay, dollface, I hear you, I do. Don’t worry, I’m gonna fix this, all of it. I’ll see you after tomorrow, I promise.”

Dick shook his head and pulled away, retreating into himself. “No, no you can’t, it’s gotta happen, I gotta go.” With that he jumped onto the fire escape with less grace than normal and disappeared. Jason, despite really wanting to, didn’t follow. 

Jason did not see Dick after tomorrow. He, instead, put his discomfort at being in the Cave aside and spent long hours with Bruce and Tim delving deep into Gotham’s history, looking for anything that might hint at the Court. Bruce had told him Dick was supposed to become a Talon when he was eight, and Jason was slowly putting together half remembered midnight conversations. Yes, Dick had said something in the beginning about how Slade was temporary, and how his whole life had been planned for him, and how he just wanted to fly again. Those types of conversations had died with Dick’s spirit, however, and Jason assumed a lot of them had been repressed, like so much else Dick had held dear at first. Jason still remembered two months after he was taken in by Bruce, he had asked Dick to tell him more about Paloma the fortune teller and the handful of languages she spoke and Dick had looked at him funny and asked, “Who?” That was the exact moment Jason realized Dick would be dead long before he stopped breathing, and it terrified him. Now, fourteen years after Dick’s parents died, Jason was positive he knew more about Dick than he himself did.

On that topic, Jason was still churning what Dick had said over in his mind. If Dick was with the Court now, Slade was alone. After fourteen years. That had to have messed him up a little too, hopefully made him sloppy. And that also meant Jason didn’t have to worry about Dick’s safety when it came to Slade. So, he called in every favour he had. Used a few of Barbara’s and Tim’s too, and finally, after years, Jason had Slade’s location narrowed down to three city blocks in Bludhaven, and enough legal evidence to lock him away for a very long time. He had planned on taking Slade on alone, but as he was double checking his guns in the Cave, Bruce appeared at his side, suited up.

“Do you have a plan for taking Slade down?” Jason didn’t look up from his pistol.

“Uh, yeah, it’s called kick his ass and lock him up.”

“You have three blocks to comb through and you don’t know what Slade may have planned. Without Richard, he might be completely different than what you think you know. And you need to take his metahuman status into account.”

“You’re not gonna stop me, Bruce.” This was something Jason had been wanting for years, even before he died. Make Slade pay for what he’s done, to Dick, to families, wipe out the stain the merc has left in his destruction.

“I didn’t say that, now did I?” Jason slowly looked up, meeting Bruce’s eyes.

“What are you saying, then?”

“The five of us can come at those few blocks from all sides, comb through them, enclosing. When we find Slade, it will be five on one, even his extra strength won’t make a difference that way. It also limits his chance to escape.” 

“Why?” Why would Bruce want to help Jason? What does he have against Slade?

“Slade has killed people who didn’t deserve it, and has ruined many innocent families. I’ve been trying to pin him down for a while. And I can’t ignore what he has put Richard, and you, through.” Jason didn’t see a lie in Bruce’s face. It made sense, but he didn’t want help. This was supposed to be him and Slade, no Bats limiting the ass whooping Jason was preparing to serve. A voice cut through the silence.

“Admit it, Jason, it’s better than your one man crusade. And we’re really not asking for permission.” Jason whipped around to see Barbara already suited up. Tim and Damian, both also in costume, stood behind her. She walked towards him. “I know you want to make him pay, but if I said I was about to go after the Joker for what he did to me, and you, everyone here would want to come with me to back me up.” She smiled at Jason.

Well, she wasn’t wrong. If they were switched, Jason  _ would _ insist on going with Barbara, not because she couldn’t handle herself, but because he would want to help. He grumbled a little, but in the end he let Bruce’s plan happen. 

Jason was in the southeast corner of the three blocks, working his way up and over. He knew most of these buildings well. Whatever Bruce tried to say, Jason would always know Gotham better, know every shortcut and hidey hole, every sewer entrance and back door. While Bruce grew in sheltered gardens and rich libraries, Jason survived in the bottom of the barrel. The other Bats spoke every now and again in his ears, commenting on cleared buildings, or where they were heading next, or things Bruce might want to look into on a later day. Jason said nothing. He thought a lot though, and thought about how he had first met Dickiebird.


	5. Fifth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very very short chapter which I apologize for, but I had to split it up somewhere. Nothing too serious in this chapter, just an easy part between a bunch of fuckery.  
> Everyone who comments means the world to me and I really don't want to end this story but I also really want to give you all the entire thing already !  
> Anyways, enjoy this little baby

Jason had pickpocketed a brick house of a man in a speakeasy he had slipped into in the Bowery and was sneaking back into the wine cellar where the small window he had climbed through earlier was. He had fumbled a little getting through, and stumbled into the alleyway, thinking he was in the clear. He had been examining the watch and wallet, pocketing the cash, and watching how the streetlamps hit the giant watch face as he rounded the corner, running directly into the  _ former  _ owner of said watch. Jason, who had landed on his ass, froze as the man recognized his belongings. Anger had contorted his face, and Jason had fled back down the alley with the man hot on his heels, bellowing. This was before Jason had lived on the streets, back when he was trying to feed two mouths and didn’t know Gotham as well as he should have. This was before he knew this particular alley was a dead end. He had skidded to a stop, heaving in the night air frantically. Jason remembered debating scaling the wall, but his knee had been funky from a poor jump over a barbwire fence while escaping a feral dog the week before, and the guy might have just shot him down. Jason had spun around as the man’s footfalls had gotten louder and louder, and then he knew he was well and truly fucked.

“This’ll fuckin teach ya ta putchur fingers where they don’t belong.” The man had borne down on Jason, pulling a butterfly knife out as he had advanced. Jason had stumbled back until he hit the brick behind him. Suddenly, a knife had whistled out of nowhere, and had cut clean across the bridge of the guys nose before it had embedded into the mortar of the wall. Both man and kid panicked trying to see where the knife had come from. The man had also tried to stop his nose from bleeding anymore than it already had. Then, something had dropped between Jason and the guy. A kid, a bit taller than Jason at the time, but just as skinny, with a black mask and bodysuit and another fancy knife.

“How bout you pick on people your own size?” The kid had had an accent Jason didn’t know back then. The guy had recovered a little, and had grinned down at the kid.

“Two little cunts in one alley?” He had said, “Oh this is good.” The kid had thrown another knife before the man moved, and it had entered just above his kneecap. He had crumbled with a yell.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Jason had watched the kid approach the man. “So leave.” He then had pulled the knife out, and danced away as the man attempted to swipe at him, before the idiot had stumbled to a stand, and tried to throw a punch. The kid had grabbed the man’s fist and spun, throwing the man, who had been at least twice his height, over his shoulder and down to the alley between himself and Jason. The kid had stomped on the guy’s face, and had knocked him out cold. Jason, who had watched the whole ordeal in shock, had been amazed, and afraid. The kid had stared at him. “You should be more careful.”

“Are you gunna hurt me?” Jason still remembered how confused Dick had looked.

“Of course not.” Jason had let the breath he had been holding go.

“Are you a superhero?” Jason had seen Batman before then, and the kid had dressed about the same. The kid had been quick to deny it. “Are- are you a bad guy?” The kid hadn’t answered immediately, he instead had wiped the blood on his blade on his dark sleeve.

“I think I’m supposed to be.” Jason had paused at that sentence. The kid had saved him, and had seemed nice and pretty and not at all like the thugs he’d avoid.

“That’s okay, I think I am too.” Oh if only this past Jason knew. “My dad said I’m going to be.” The kid had licked his lips and looked up for a second.

“I have to go.” He had taken a step back.

“Wait! I don’t know your name. What if - what if I need saving again?” Jason hadn’t known what had drawn him to Dick - his whole life he had told himself it was just him and mom, him and mom, him and mom - but the kid had seemed more lost and hurt than Jason. Oh if only this past Jason knew. The kid had smiled and laughed.

“Learn how to save yourself.” He then had disappeared down the alley. Jason had stayed there a while longer, until the guy at his feet had started groaning. Jason had pulled the ornate knife out of the wall - it would sell for a lot - and had left.

Later, Jason gave the knife back to Dick, and Dick taught him how to throw a punch and together they learned Gotham and each other.

Jason, the current Jason, felt the weight of that ornate knife in his pocket as he stared down an apartment building that had clearly once been beautiful and wealthy. Dick and him had passed the knife back and forth for years, a joke running just as long as both of them have been. He shook his head, he needed to focus on here and now.

Movement in a window, top floor. Jason scanned the floor, the thermal picked up a single person. He couldn’t get overzealous, lots of Gothamites explored an empty building at one point or another. 

Batgirl had finished her sweep and was waiting at the meetup point. The others were all nearly done. This had to be it, there just wasn’t anywhere else. When a Bat cleared a building, they cleared a building. “I might have something.” Jason muttered into the comms. He ignored most of the questions sent his way, just gave his location and grappled to the roof of the building, landing as quietly as he could. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the fine tech Barbara and Tim did, and couldn’t fit into small spaces like Damian. The only real way for Jason to know for sure was to check in person.

Red Robin was a few rooftops away, the garrish red catching Jason’s eye. The others couldn’t be far behind. 

Jason sighed as dramatically as he dared. The roof access door was in better condition than it had any right to be, checking a little box off on his Slade hunting list. Still, a door is just a door, and Jason’s a pretty unstoppable force. He descended the stairs as quickly as possible, his ears almost hurting from how bad he was straining them to pick up any sound from below him. Which is why he nearly shit himself when Tim’s voice spoke right in his ears.

“Robin and Batgirl are covering the windows, I’m checking for any other possible ways out, and Batman, uh, he’s following you in.” Jason would have offered a few choice words if he wasn’t worried about being heard, instead he gave a hum to let Tim know he heard him.

The top floor was another box checked off. Half the doors were thrown open or missing completely, which was to be expected in an abandoned apartment building, but there was no mess. The rooms Jason peeked into were clean, picked through, but orderly. The hallway itself was nearly spotless. The stairwell to the lower floors was destroyed, effectively separating this one floor from the rest of the building. This was definitely Slade. 

There were muted sounds coming from an apartment halfway down the hall. Jason took a second to breathe, center himself. He thought of everything that might happen. The door may be trapped, the entire apartment for that matter. Slade could have been tipped off somehow, waiting to shoot him as soon as he entered. Slade could escape, or kill him, or any of the others, or could somehow still have Dick. Or, this could all work out, and Jason celebrates tonight. Bruce must be giving him a headstart on purpose.

Jason places a small detonation on the door, turns into the nearest doorway as it goes off. The door - enforced, as he expected - goes flying into the apartment. There’s minimal debris, and Jason drops a smoke pellet as he charges into the room. 

Slade is there, caught so amazingly unawares Jason almost laughs at the shocked expression. The man recovers faster than Jason hoped, and grabs a sword off the wall, of course.

Now, there are a few things Jason, in his anger, hadn’t cared enough to consider, and they were all making themselves known right now. One, Slade’s weapon of choice is a two handed sword, something designed specifically to pierce body armour like Jason’s. Two, the hilt of Jason’s kris offers little protection to his hand. Three, the sword had a good two feet of reach on the kris. Four, Jason wasn’t positive the poison in the kris that he usually relied on would actually effect Slade. He thinks about his anger instead, and rushes at Slade. 

Slade meets him head on, the sword deflecting Jason’s blade easily. The sword flies towards his face, and Jason has milliseconds to bring his arm up to block it. He activates the blades on his bracer to try and twist the sword out of Slade’s grasp. That, sadly, doesn’t work, and Slade uses his weight against him, twisting Jason to the ground onto his face. He scrambles up as the sword goes through the floor by his face. Why in God’s name did Jason plan for everything but what actually happens? Jason flicks a knife at Slade to get an extra second as he gets on his feet. Slade chuckles.

“What made you think this was a good plan, kid?” Jason glares in response and throws two more knives. One of them embeds in the doorframe behind Slade, the other skims his arm and wells up red. Slade stares at the cut, raises an eyebrow and looks at Jason. Jason realized how fucked he was, and usually, when in such a position of fuck-ness, Dick was the one to show up and save his ass. Jason didn’t think that was going to be the case this time.

Suddenly, the worst, high-pitched, demonic noise ever rang through the top floor. Jason grunted and curled in on himself, waiting for his helmet to block it out. Slade, armourless, fell to his knees clutching onto his ears. Jason’s helmet transformed the whine into a dull thrum. Batman appeared in the apartment door, holding a Mosquito device. “I had it.” Jason heaved out, slowly approaching Slade. He slides a .45 out of its holster. 

“Jason.” Jason aims at Slade’s other eye. “Batgirl, now.” Before Jason can give Slade what he deserves, he hears a slight hiss, and his mask fills with knockout gas. Jason may have grunted out a ‘Bitch’ as he slid to the ground. 


	6. Sixth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally past the halfway woo-hoo!! This chapter's pretty tame, just one tiny unimportant death lolol  
> ((also can we talk about all the research that went into this damn fic at some point... like all the mob bosses are actual DC characters, everything Jason carries on him is canon, the info on the kris vs sword is actually all accurate, please my google search looks like I'm a murderer someone tell me I'm not too deep in this))  
> Anyways,,, I hope you all enjoy!!!!

Jason came to slowly in the Cave. Barbara and Bruce were hunched over something at the computer. Jason lurched off the bed, still half drugged, and stalked over to them. “Bruce!” Bruce turned around and his face met Jason’s fist. Jason stumbled through the follow through and shrugged off Barbara’s steadying hand on his shoulder. “What the fuck, you son of a bitch!” 

“Jason, I understand-”

“No! No you fucking don’t! Slade was mine! This is why I didn’t fucking want you, you piece of shit!” Why didn’t Bruce understand, that was supposed to be for Dick, it was what Slade deserved, and what Dick deserved. And now, Slade was- “Where is he?”

“Jason.” Barbara tried to place her hand on his shoulder again but he skittered back. She glanced at Bruce, who just stared at Jason. “Jason, he’s at ADX Florence, in a section the JLA has built specifically-”

“ADX Florence?!” Oh Slade is so dead. Jason’s broken into a prison before, he’s not against doing it again. “Next time I see him, he’s dead.” Barbara grimaced, but didn’t argue. Bruce opened his mouth, but Alfred breezed down the stairs, looking more distressed than Jason had seen him in a long while. 

“Master Bruce, I fear there is quite a significant issue arising.” 

“What kind of issue?” Bruce refocused his attention on Alfred as the elder joined the three of them by the computer.

“The Court’s Talons have been spotted in the city.” Jason sucked a breath in. The other three had pounced on the computer but Jason just took a step back. His head was clearer now, and his fist stung a little. The Talons only came out at night, but it was night last time he was conscious, had he slept a whole day? Not that it mattered, what mattered was Slade was locked up, Dick may be out in Gotham right now, and the Talons don’t just explore Gotham for funsies. 

Barbara’s cameras covered the screen, as well as the subway map, sewer map, and a map of all the islands. There were black shadows darting through the camera lenses, a noticeable lack of petty thieves and thugs, yeah this was a ‘significant issue’. Bruce was saying something about why and where and who, and then the screen froze. Red lines cut across the blue, and the maps flickered in and out of existence.

“What the hell…” Jason took a step towards the monitor as Barbara cussed furiously and redoubled her typing. Bruce looked surprised, for once.

“We’re being hacked. How?” The surprise turned into anger. “Barbara get whatever you can onto a seperate drive, now! If the Court-”

“I can’t, Bruce!” Barbara looked up at Bruce, fear evident in her voice. “I have zero control right now, I can’t do anything!” 

If the Court got into the computer, well, Gotham - and the world - was theirs. It had so much information, more than Jason even knew. Info on all JLA members, all protocols, all missions past and present. Info on every Bat, contingency plans, weapons blueprints, building blueprints, and everything known about every League, Cult, Mafia, Gang, and Organization the JLA or Bats have dealt with. There was no contingency plan for the computer being compromised, because even in Bruce’s wildest thoughts, it just  _ didn’t happen _ . Jason could only watch as Barbara and Bruce panicked, his knowledge on tech was nowhere near theirs.

Then, just as soon as it started, it stopped. The maps and cameras were all back, but there was an additional file in the top corner of the screen. Some forty odd names were arranged alphabetically. Some started to click in Jason’s head, Fries, Davis, Arkham, other influential Gothamites. At the very bottom of the list was a robin. 

“I have full control.” Barbara’s voice cut through his thoughts, hesitantly. “Bruce?” Jason and Barbara both looked to Bruce. 

“Alfred.” Alfred stood straighter, probably as anxious as Jason to  _ do something.  _ “Call in the family. We don’t know what the Court wants, or what they’ve done to the computer. Use the separate emergency broadcast. No one is to touch the computer.” Alfred nodded and breezed off to the armoury. 

“Bruce.” Jason started before he could tell himself to shut up. “We do know what the Court wants. The list there, they’re hits.”

“We can not trust anything on the computer, let alone a list of names someone placed after hacking into it.”

“Bruce, trust me.” Wow, definitely the wrong thing to say, if Bruce’s look was anything to go off of. “Okay or don’t. Think rationally instead. These are important people, and we all know the Court wants total control. It makes sense they would want to get them out of the picture.”

“Bruce…” Barbara was staring at the list intently. “My dad is on that list. If Jason’s right… I need to find him.” Bruce’s jaw clenched. The cameras were visible out of the corner of Jason’s eye.

“And why should I trust this list?” Bruce glared at Jason. Jason sucked a breath in.

“Because Dick sent it.” Bruce’s eyebrows slowly creeped up his face.

“Prove it.” Okay, yeah that was expected.

“The robin. It’s Dick’s. He was Robin long before I was, I got it from him when you took me in. No one else ever knew that.” He paused a second. “Also he loves alphabetizing things.” Barbara looked thoroughly confused, Jason realized she had no idea who Dick was, only Bruce and Tim did.

Speaking of Tim, Alfred had reemerged from the armoury with a very old laptop. “Master Bruce, Master Timothy and I have rerouted all communications through this… thing. It will be secure.” Bruce surveyed the computer that was set in front of Barbara and gave a small nod.

“Red Robin?”

“Reporting for duty.” There was a smile in Tim’s voice. “Black Bat is with me as well.”

“Good. Has Agent A briefed you?”

“Yup.” There was a hum in the background, Cassandra. There were police cars appearing in Barbara’s cameras.

“We’ve acquired a list of Gotham’s residents believed to be the Court’s targets for tonight. I need Red Robin to get to Lucius, and Black Bat to Jeremiah Arkham. Agent A will send the list to Gordon as well. The Talons are dangerous, you both know this, and it will be difficult to detain them.”

“Impossible.” Jason cut in. “The Talons are dead, B. Zombies. Only way to stop 'em is to kill 'em again.” 

Bruce's head whipped around. “We do not kill, Hood.” 

“It doesn't matter! They're already dead! If you don't, they'll just keep coming back.” That had been Dick's biggest fear when he was younger. Dying, but never seeing his family, just having his soul trapped in his dead body, running around to do others’ biddings. “You kill them, and do it right, say a little prayer or whatever you need, but it’s the only option.” 

Alerts were coming through the laptop, the Birds of Prey had checked in, and Batwing. Robin and Batwoman had yet to show, and Catwoman was a 50/50 chance anyways. Alfred was talking to them, sending them after one person on that list or another.

“Look.” Batgirl stood up to face them. “Deal with them when we get to them. I’m going to find my dad.” Batman looked like he wanted to argue, but let her stride to her bike and leave. Jason shook his head, looking to Alfred.

“Tell them to kill them. I’m going after Fries.” Forty people was a lot. They wouldn’t save them all, even with the GCPD helping. Jason’s bike wasn’t in the Cave, god knows where it was, so he headed towards his old favourite of Bruce’s. It’d have to do. Batman sighed behind him, but told Alfred he was going after Lincoln March, and his footsteps echoed Jason’s. Jason wanted to ask where Damian was, the kid shouldn’t be alone, not that he cared, but damn if Bruce hadn’t let enough shit happen to them all. He didn’t. He mounted the bike and sped off to Fries’ hideout. Kind of. 

There were Talons all over the city, flying in the shadows above his head as he sped down the unnaturally empty roads. He wished he could be on the roofs too, being on the road was begging for an attack, but it was the best way to let Dick know where he was. If Dick was out, if he was still alive, if he was still himself. None of the Talons bothered him as he passed through the city, they were single minded, if he wasn’t on the list and not actively stopping them, he wouldn’t be bothered. 

Jason called Roy as he drove. It went to voicemail. Roy was probably somewhere nice and warm and sunny drinking beer on a beach with Kori. Why did Jason always end up back in Gotham? “Hey dumbass, uh, shit’s going down in Gotham. When isn’t it? If I don’t see you, well, you know what happened.” He hung up and slowed down as he approached Freeze’s current lair. There was gold glinting on a nearby rooftop. He was so close to being too late. He shoved the kickstand up and charged into the building.

  
  


Dick couldn’t feel the wind on his face. The mask covered his entire face, and the lenses made everything slightly gold-tinted. He stood on top of Wayne Enterprises, taking in all of Gotham. It really was pretty from so high up. The other Talons glinted across the city. Dick took a breath in to little avail. He had his target, he had to go. It was no different from anything he had done with Slade, but for some reason he just couldn't. Maybe because of the large number of Bats, maybe because the people they were going after were actually doing genuine good, maybe because he had no allegiance to the Court like he had to Slade. God, Slade. He missed him so much, it hurt. 

Red caught his eye as he looked towards the mayor's house. A lone motorcycle, blazing down the centre of town. Jason. His Jason. Doing work for the man who let him die, and he's going to die again because of it. The other Talons would kill him, Dick had no doubt. Fucking fuck. Jason was heading west, the mayor's house was east. 

The Court was in his ears, telling him what to do. Dick screamed, grabbed at his hair as they nattered, he could suddenly feel every little thing they had done to him, every injury was on fire, his head pulsed as he collapsed to the roof. The Court, the Court, the Court. There was nothing else, Dick was a Talon, he had a job to do to prove his worth. This was his initiation. The Court, the Court, the Court. He had to go.

Dick threw himself off the roof, even if it was just to silence the yelling in his head. He still had to be careful, as he shot a line out. He wasn't a full Talon yet, he could still die, though his senses were greatly improved. He wondered what Jason woul- no, no he didn't. He made his way to the mayor's house. 

He slipped in through an unlocked window into a hallway on the second floor. Fools. The tv was on quietly in the living room on the first floor. He slid by two kids bedrooms, he could hear them sleeping peacefully. The master bedroom door was half open, he could make out a woman sleeping in the bed. Dick made his way to the first floor. A kitchen light was on. The newscaster on the tv was in a helicopter over Gotham, covering the Court's night. It was their night, this was the beginning of everything, they had said so. A man sat in a lazy boy with his back to Dick. This would be the easiest mission Dick had ever done. He freed his gold claws, grabbed the mayor's mouth and forced his head back. The man struggled, but he was old and fat and weak. His screams were muted by Dick's gloves.

“Sabastian Hady, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.” The cut was clean, of course, he was a professional. The man gurgled a bit and went limp under him. The Court would take him in now. Make him a true Talon. He would be trained by his great grandfather, and would be the Gray Son of Gotham. The Court had said so. 

Dick exited the way he entered, the children and wife still slept soundly. Dick had a bad feeling in his stomach. Something had happened that wasn't supposed to happen. Dick didn't know what. The Court would deal with it. He leapt into the air, making his way to one of the Courts entrances. He leapt across an alley to be tackled out of the air. Another Talon threw him to the ground. Dick made a noise of confusion as he landed. 

“We've been compromised.” The Talon hissed. “Activate Instant Kill.” The Talon then straightened up and slit their throat with their own claws. The body collapsed at Dick's feet. The Talon would be back, it was just how they stayed inconspicuous to the cops. Many Talons over time had slipped into police headquarters masquerading as a cadaver. But, the Court, compromised? How? Who? Dick was expected to kill himself, but, he wouldn't come back like the Talon at his feet… He had tried to kill himself before, it hadn't worked, Slade had saved his life. Slade would save his life again. If Dick found Slade, everything would be okay. He'd get rid of the Court yelling in his head, and they'd go back to how it was before.

Sirens were becoming noticeable, but muted under the noise in his head. They wanted him to listen to them, to kill himself. Listen to his conditioning, do what they demanded or he would suffer greatly. They would destroy him, make him wish he had killed himself. Dick may have yelled 'shut up’ out loud, or maybe just in his head. Dick ripped the mask off, gasping for the night air greedily. No. No Court. If they were compromised there was nothing he could do. He forced Slade into his forethought. Singlemindedly, he took off towards Slade's favourite safehouse. The man had multiple, but Dick had, well, not time per say, but a determination. The sun was rising.


	7. Seventh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for a slight mental breakdown? No? Well I made one anyways...  
> I can't believe this series is almost done after Ten Whole Months... that's just wack to me. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, it was probably one of the more enjoyable ones for me to write,,,which may be slightly sadistic (?)

Jason was regretting coming back to life. He had decapitated the pissy Talon, and sure, he hadn't been expecting gratitude from Freeze, but still, he didn't need to immediately start attacking Jason after. So yeah, that freak went down too. No, not dead, but he'll wish he was when he woke up from that ass beating. Jason was feeling shitty. That was an understatement, the Talon had been much more than he was expecting, and he was bleeding out and sporting a broken bone or three, and he wasn't positive he'd make it to a safe house in one piece. His head swam as he collapsed on Freeze's roof. He sucked in a breath, moaning in pain, both thankful and regretting the fact he was alone.

“Master Hood?” Jason groaned into the comm. “We have done everything we can, the targets have all been either saved or, reached by Talons first. The night is over, my boy. Come back to the Cave.” Jason sighed, relieved. He didn't think he could deal with another Talon. 

“Everyone else?” There was a pause, Alfred probably had a lot to deal with right now.

“Safe and sound and all headed back home.”

  
  


“Good. I'll see you around, A.” Jason started the long process of getting himself to his feet.

“Master Hood, I implore you-”

“Goodnight, A.” Jason deactivated his comm. He should have asked about the Talons. He needed to find Dick. But first, get to a safe house, patch up and re stock and then head out. Jason willed himself to stay upright, and headed to the nearest safe house.

It took much longer than he wanted. Jason fell gracelessly through the sky light, the only entrance to this particular hideout. He groaned as he stumbled towards the bathroom, groaned as he sat, groaned as he peeled his jacket and armour off. Fuck, he hurt. Luckily, he had gotten very good at patching himself up unaided, and the cuts were all precise and clean. Probably the only good part of fighting crazy good assassins. It took time to get himself in working order, time he didn't have. Jason popped some pain killers back and stumbled to the kitchen to find the vodka he knew he had left. He took a swig once it was located straight from the bottle and left it open as he headed to the living room. He felt heavy, like he might just melt into the floor. He opened the false wall, squinting at the backlighting that lit up the guns arranged in front of him. He took a step closer to the wall and his knee buckled. Jason swore as he collided with the ground. He couldn't do this now, he still needed to, to do something. What was he doing? Right, guns, zombie assassins, hot guy to rescue. He forced himself to his feet and blacked out. 

Jason woke to someone talking. His first thought was 'shut the fuck up’. The voice laughed. Apparently Jason had said it out loud. 

“Wake up, Jason. Now.” The voice had the same authority of Talia somehow, and Jason shot up only to be pushed back down. He gripped an arm, a skinny ass arm. His vision focused, Tim was looking down at him. Jason was on his couch somehow, Tim in a sweater and sweatpants standing above him. A computer that wasn't Jason's was on his coffee table.

“The fuck?” Sun was streaming through the skylight. 

“Alfred was worried, I found you half on the couch. The cuts from that Talon had poison. I, I got it out, you should be okay now. Are you okay?” Tim looked exhausted. His wrist was wrapped and bruises were stark against his pale neck. 

“The fuck? What time's it?” Jason pulled himself off the couch. His head was still a little fuzzy, but much better than before.

“Like 6.”

“A.m.?”

“P.m.” Jason stared at Tim, mouth slightly open. He had slept for… well, a long fucking time. 

“I need to go.” Tim's eyebrows disagreed. “I need to find Dick.” He admitted. 

“I figured. I, heh, okay, I went to all your safe houses that I know of, which I believe is the majority.” He plowed on before Jason could get mad. “He wasn't at any of them. I got my hands on what I hope is most of Slade's. I've cleared a handful, and it seems someone's been to a few in the last hours, so I think I'm on the right track, but there's still a few-”

“Which ones?” Jason demanded. He could tear Tim a new one later for ransacking his safe houses, and for hanging out in this one like he belonged there, and for patching him up without asking, and while he was at it he still owed Tim an ass kicking, but Dick was his main priority right now. Roy would call him pussy whipped, well, dick whipped. Heh, Dick whipped. He wasn’t though, he just owed Dick more than he would ever be able to repay. And no one deserved to be Talon-ized.

“There’s two in the Diamond District still, one in South Channel, and one in Midtown. If you want I can-” Jason used Tim’s arm as leverage to stand and also pushing the kid into the couch.

“Send me the locations, and go back to the Manor.”

“Jason, you have to consider that Dick may not be-”

“Be what?” Jason popped something in his spine as he stretched. “Not be in Gotham? Or not be wanting to see me? Or not be himself?” With his back turned, Jason missed the sad look Tim sent him.

“Yes.” Tim almost whispered. “Jason, I’m worried-”

“Yeah, well, enough of that.” Jason had grabbed a new set of pistols off the wall and was making his way to his room for new armour. “This is Dickie we’re talking about. He won’t hurt me on purpose.” Tim had padded after his older brother. He stood in Jason’s doorframe as Jason struggled with his armour and stitches.

“Okay. But Jason, please, if you need help, come to the Cave. I want to help, and you know Alfred would do anything for you. I know Dick means a lot to you, more than anyone, but you have to take into account everything he’s been through.”

Jason turned to face his brother. “Thank you, oh wise sage, for your wisdom.” He pushed Tim out of his way as he stalked to the sunlight. Tim made a face at his back. “You better be fucking out of here soon, Replacement.” He jumped up and grabbed the bar beneath the window, pulling himself up and out. He heard Tim mutter a childish ‘yes, sir’ as he stood and took in Gotham. It still looked like shit after last night, little movement, a building here or there partially destroyed, you know, the usual. His helmet pinged as he received the coordinates from Tim of the last four safe houses. The one in Midtown was closest, he shot his grapple and took off.

Jason stopped for a breath halfway to Midtown. It was a bad time to evaluate the current situation, and unlike Tim, he preferred to act first think later. But still, Tim was right, as he usually was. Jason needed to realize Dickie may not be as normal as what he usually is with Jason. If that was the case, god, Jason would have to take him to the Cave, wouldn’t he? Jason checked a row of stitches that had been tugging and continued on before he could think about what if Dick was dead already.

The flat in Midtown had no heat signature, but Jason checked just to be sure. It had been ransacked, which means someone had been here recently, just like the others Tim had been to. All the mirrors were broken, which was a bad sign, and the clothes were all pulled out of the drawers. Jason spotted some of what he assumed were Dick’s clothes. The entire flat felt bad. Jason’s imagination got away from him for a second, imagining all the horrifying shit that probably happened here, in this flat, in this bed, the only one in the apartment. He gagged and fled the flat. The Diamond District ones were next. If Jason was religious like his mom had been, he’d probably be praying. He couldn’t lose Dickie, not after everything they’d been through together, everything Dick had saved him from, including himself after coming back to life. Dick had been the one to talk some sanity into him, and thank god for that huh?

Jason almost tripped when his helmet picked up a heat signature in the second safe house. Jason was two floors above the balcony for this apartment, on the roof of the building next door, and could clearly see someone rushing around in the far corner of the apartment. He sent a thanks to Roy and Kori, he had to be using some of their good karma right now. Jason practically slid down the building, dropping onto the balcony in a crouch as lightly as he could. The balcony door was slightly open, if it was Dick inside he was seriously slacking, but it worked in Jason’s favour. He poked his way into the apartment but froze when a loud crash shattered the silence. Dick wailed from further inside, something else broke. Jason ghosted through the apartment and down the hallway to the bedroom. The bedroom door was half off its hinges and protested noisily when Jason tried to nudge it open. Fuck. The door was ripped open from inside the room, and Jason saw Dick for the first time since that night at the nightclub. 

He looked bad. No, he looked so much worse than bad could encompass. He was in a Talon uniform minus the mask, the skin Jason could see was paler than Jason’s own skin and mottled with bruises and cuts. His eyes were sunken and so, so dull, and he was so fucking skinny, more than he had already been. He looked like a wild animal backed into a corner, shaking, breathing heavily, and staring at Jason almost in fear. 

“Dickie.” Jason exhaled his name. Jason couldn’t help from slumping his shoulders, his whole body went lax just from the sadness of seeing Dick like this. Dick disagreed, however. He practically hissed at Jason and launched a throwing knife at him. In Jason’s shock it embedded in the same shoulder that had just finished healing. Dick leaped at him, knocking him to the ground, and ran down the hall. Jason scrambled up, his wits recovered, and chased after him. He whipped around the corner and threw a bola at Dick’s legs, sending him crashing to the floor. “Dick, please!” Jason tried, approaching Dick. Dick, for his part, had scrambled onto his back, desperately pulling at the rope with golden claws. He saw Jason approach and pushed himself up and back until his back hit the dishwasher.

“You!” Dick yelled at him. Jason stopped where he was. “This is all your fault! You - you took him from me!” Jason sucked a breath in and stepped towards Dick. If Dick wanted to be mad at him for getting rid of Slade, let him, but Dick was alive and himself and probably not trying to kill Jason. Dick started tugging at the bolas desperately, his whole body shuddering and not looking at Jason.

“Dickie bird.” Jason knelt beside Dick. He grabbed Dick’s hands and pulled them towards himself.

“No!” Dick shrieked, trying to pull his hands back, fruitlessly kicking his tethered legs. “No! I can’t! I can’t go back to the Court! Slade’ll help, he’ll help, please, please, where is he?” Dick’s anger died out halfway through and tears had started to fall. He finally looked at Jason, but his eyes were glazed over. “They’re in my head, I can hear them. It hurts, it hurts so bad, please I just want Slade…” His ramble died off as sobs started racking his body, making the shivers less noticeable. Jason didn’t know what to do. Dick was strong, he’d always been so strong even if no one else saw it, and now to see him like this - tears welled up in Jason’s eyes as he pulled Dick into a hug. Dick clung to Jason’s jacket like it was the only thing keeping him alive and drenched the shoulder with his tears. Jason ran his gloved fingers through Dick’s hair and reached into one of his pockets with a spare hand.

“Shh, it’s okay Dickiebird, we’re gonna fix this, okay? I promise I’m gonna help you.” He injected a syringe of midazolam into Dick’s neck. Dick gasped and tried to fight Jason, but Jason just held him against his chest. “I’m sorry, Dickie.” He murmured into Dick’s ear as the drug took effect and he sagged against Jason. Jason leaned back, setting Dick back against the dishwasher. He sniffled and undid the bolas, putting them away. A few tears might have fallen as he assessed the knife wound in his shoulder, but that might have just been from the physical pain. He rubbed his eyes and called Tim.


	8. Eighth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the beginning of the end finally!  
> Sorry about the late post, had an exam today and I'm still recuperating lol  
> I will say it gets a little slow here and there in the next few chapters which I will apologize about now, I really didn't know how to end this and ended up just rambling instead whoops  
> Thanks for everyone who's stuck with this and enjoy the tame chapter!

Dick came to slowly, a good sign of being forcibly put to sleep. He was cold, but he was always cold with the Court, they liked it when he suffered. He swallowed and tried to take stock while continuing to fake sleep. His head hurt, but not from being hit, just from the Court inside. The putrid smell of his cell was gone, and it wasn’t nearly as bright. Something wasn’t right, he was missing something, something important. The cuffs on his wrists and ankles were padded, maybe Slade was punishing him for going so easily to the Court? Yes, that was it, Slade had saved him. But, no, it wasn't. Something had happened to Slade, think Grayson goddamnit. Maybe Jason- Jason! Jason had found him, and had caught him and drugged him. That can't be right, Dick trusted Jason, he'd never hurt Dick before. Dick almost yelled out loud. He pulled at the restraints, confused and cold and scared.

“Prettybird? You awake?” Jason's voice by his side forced his eyes open. Dick took in the grey ceiling way above his head before twisting to look at Jason. Bags were prominent under his eyes. Behind him was medical technology, everything was clean and white and sterile looking and not at all familiar.

“Where am I?” He slurred out, but Dick knew he already knew the answer.

“The Cave.” Jason at least had the brains to sound sorry about it. 

“What happened?” Dick stared up at the top of the Cave, not meeting Jason's eyes. Dick heard Jason swallow and shift.

“What do you remember?” And god if that wasn't such a Slade move. Dick didn't want to answer. He didn't want to guess at who he hurt or what he forgot. He shut his eyes completely and tugged at the restraints again. “Dickie-” Jason started softly.

“No. Don't 'Dickie’ me. You, you drugged me, didn't you? That's how I got here. I- Jay, I just want everything to go back to how it was, please?”

Jason exhaled loudly. “Slade's in prison, finally.” Dick's neck cracked at how fast he whipped his head to stare at Jason. Jason flinched at the noise.

“What?” If he was with anyone else, Dick would have hated how his voice cracked. Jason pressed his lips together, looking for something in Dick's face. 

“Dickie, think about it.” Jason tried and failed to smile. “You, you can start over. Free from Slade, you can fly again, you can do whatever you want.” Dick let out a watery laugh.

“What I want? I want Slade, Jay -”

“Why?!” Jason stood up, slamming his hands onto the bed by Dick's wrist. “Why the fuck do you  _ want  _ him? After everything he's done to you?”

“Because he loves me!” Dick nearly shouted. How did Jason not see that? It was obvious Slade took care of him, no one else ever had, and now Jason was trying to take the last good thing in Dick's life away from him because Jason had a personal vendetta or something.

Jason's hands flinched off the bed at his exclamation. His shoulders slumped and when he finally met Dick's eyes there was emotion in them Dick couldn't place. “No.” Jason breathed out. He repeated it, stronger. “He doesn't love you, Dick.” Dick turned his head away from Jason, it was all he could really do to protest. “He emotionally, mentally, physically, and sexually manipulated and abused you. And it's not your fault, god knows it's not, but you need to realize what he did.” 

Dick shook his head furiously, refusing to look at Jason. “You don't know. You just don't know what love is.” He missed the pained look Jason let slip.

“Do you really think that?” Jason slumped back into the chair. “I know what love is, and what it isn't, Birdy-”

“How?” Dick pulled at his restraints again, just as something to distract him.

“Because I lo-” Jason cut himself off. Dick listened to him suck a breath in and slowly release it. “Because, I do. I know Roy and Kori love me because Roy rambles about his new inventions to me and values my opinions on his ideas and Kori comes to me when she needs help with Earth stuff. I know Barbara loves me because she tries to make me laugh when I feel like ass and sends me books she thinks I'll like. And I know Talia doesn't love me. She used me for her own means, and yes, she put a roof above my head and gave me food and clothes and training, but I was her weapon.” He paused for a second. “If I ask you something will you answer it?”

Dick gave up tugging on his wrists. He felt drained, like he was still drugged. Maybe he was. He rolled his head back towards Jason, looking at him through half closed eyes. Jason's brow was furrowed and his lips were tugged down. “Depends on the question I guess.” 

“When did Slade ever do something good for you just to make you happy? Gave you something or did something for you without expecting something back or without making you feel guilty for not giving back to him?”

That was easy. “Sex.” 

Jason's whole body flinched away from him and his eyes squeezed shut. He cracked his eyes open to stare at Dick. “I, I-” He huffed. “You don't see that as manipulation? You don't feel that you owe him after? And he doesn't ever hurt you?” 

Dick shrugged as well as he could given his current predicament. “That wasn't the question.” Jason sighed and dropped his head into the bed. His hair tickled Dick's hand. 

“Let me up, Jay.” Jason tilted his head so his eyes peeked through his white bangs.

“You gonna do something stupid? Cause my family is here, and if you do something-”

“I won’t hurt them.”

Jason lifted his head fully, grinning tiredly. “I’m not worried about that, I’m worried about them hurting you and you not defending yourself.” Jason sat up fully and began tugging on his restraint, smiling at him. Dick managed a small smile back.

The door in the corner of the room slid open and both of them froze, staring at each other like kids caught with their hands in a candy jar. Bruce Wayne stepped into the room, staring first at Jason’s back and then at Dick, who quickly looked down. Slade had taught him his manners. “Richard Grayson.” Dick watched Jason’s body tense out of the corner of his eye and kept quiet. Bruce took a step farther into the room. “Would I be right in saying you are not a Talon?” 

Dick nodded, quietly mumbling, “Yes, sir.” Jason’s grip on his wrist tightened, but not as a warning. Bruce took another step, his footfalls were purposely heavy.

“Would I be right in saying you are still loyal to Slade Wilson?” Jason shot up, the chair he was sitting in scraping noisily as he turned on Bruce. 

“Piss off, Bruce. His whole life just got screwed and he’s scared-”

“And he can still answer for himself, Jason.” Bruce was monotone and forceful, looking past Jason’s bulk to stare at Dick. Dick glanced up at Bruce and then back down. 

“Yes, sir.” His voice wavered and he hated it. His nails bit into the flesh of his palms and he bit his lower lip, staring down. Bruce tilted his head at Jason as if to say, ‘I told you so’. 

“Come out here.” Bruce stared Jason down, seemingly ignoring Dick for now.

“Why?” Jason spit out. “So you can interrogate him? Terrorize him? Just like Slade?” Bruce arched an eyebrow.

“I want to talk to you, Jason.” Dick let his eyelids fall shut, starting to get comfortable on the bed. Being restrained for long periods of time? Nothing new. 

“You can talk to me here.” Jason growled out. Dick rolled his eyes under his lids.

“Go, Jay.” There was silence for a bit, Dick refused to open his eyes. Jason sighed, and Dick listened to two sets of footsteps recede and a door slide open and closed.

Dick let a shuddering breath go. He lifted his head and thumped it against the pillow, ignoring the few tears running down to his hairline. Dick tried to organize his thoughts, and decide his emotions towards Jason right now.

The Court wasn’t an issue right now, or Dick didn’t think so anyways. He could hear them in his head, and he feared them, but he was with Batman now, Batman wouldn’t let the Court into his house. Unless he was considered Court now? No. He wasn’t. He refused to be. The Court was a minor issue.

Slade was… an issue. If Jason was right, and Jason didn’t lie, Slade was in prison, for probably the first time in a very long time. Which meant Dick was alone, for the first time in a very long time. But, if Dick had his facts right, which let’s be real he probably didn’t, Jason was the one who put Slade in prison. So Dick was without Slade, and he didn’t know what to do about that. He could fight for himself obviously, but money and food and someone to tell him what to do with his life? Dick was lost. And fuck if that didn’t hurt. He needed Slade, like he needed water, he had no idea how to live without the older man.

And Jason was Jason. Like he had always been. Brash and emotional and trying to do what he thought was best for himself and for Dick. Dick couldn’t hate him, that was just a fact. But be happy in his presence right now? Jason said Dick could fly now, like in his dreams, like when he was so young. Jason wanted him to be happy, and thought Slade was bad for him. Not that Slade is, but Jason thought so. And without Jason, Dick had absolutely no one. So Jason was good, Dick needed Jason, and didn’t hate him, and that was good enough for Dick.

And Bruce? And the rest of the Bat-family? Not to be trusted, here to hurt him, Slade always warned him to stay away from them. He wouldn’t hurt them, because they were important to Jason, but he would not help, would not trust, and would not like.

His memories were as they usually were, which is not good, and he was so tired, not having slept well since Slade handed him to the Court. The bed was comfy, the restraints a minimal issue. Dick fell into a light sleep.

  
  


Tim prepared for destruction as Bruce and Jason stalked out of the medical room. Damian made a move to get up but Barbara pushed him back down.

“What the fuck Bruce? You can't honestly think I'm going to be fine with you just leaving him tied up like some dangerous criminal?” Jason started as soon as the door was fully closed. Bruce didn't spare a glance as he continued towards the Nest.

“He is a dangerous criminal, Jason. I know it's hard to look past your love for him-” Jason's face turned a lovely shade of red, confirming everything Tim had both hoped and feared.

“Love? I don't- it's not- why would you-?” He continued to chase after Bruce, still stuttering. Tim shared a look with Barbara as Damian tutted. “Well he's not dangerous to us!” Jason ended lamely. Bruce paused on the stairs to stare incredulously at Jason.

“You’re forgetting the part where he stabbed you.”

Jason shrugged his shoulders. “He was panicking and I was blocking the exit. And it’s not like Selina has never hurt you.”

Bruce reached where the three of them were huddled and started looking over Tim’s compiled notes from the Court’s night. “So you admit your relationship with Richard is the same as mine with Selina?” The blush that had faded on Jason’s cheeks flared up again. Barbara bit her lip to stop smiling beside Tim. 

“No! It’s not important, anyways! What’re you doing with him, B?”

Bruce had pulled up notes from the small examination Alfred had done on Dick, including the blood and DNA. “Considering he has no allegiance to the Court and has not begun the transition into a Talon, as well as the Court being in shambles, we don’t have to worry about a rogue Talon in the Cave. But his allegiance to Slade, and his memory problems, are both issues, Jason. Something I frankly don’t know how to deal with.”

Jason clenched his hands. “Don’t know how, or don’t want to? And you don’t have to do shit, I can deal with him fine but you decided to be an overbearing, obdurate, and cretinous being and take control like you always do because you don’t trust me, and you can’t stand to have things not under your regime!” 

Now, Tim didn’t know what half those words meant but they were definitely insults. This was about to get really bad really fast, if the contorted look on both Bruce’s and Damian’s faces were anything to go by.

“How about,” Barbara cut in before either Wayne could yell back, “we think this through as a group for once?” It was worded as a question, but it was an order. Everyone turned to look at her, some more happy to listen than others. “It’s obvious Jason cares for Richard, and it’s obvious we can’t let Richard just run amok given his current mental predicament. However, we have access to some of the best technology and people in the universe, and Bruce does make it a habit of taking in strays, so?” She dragged the last word out questioningly.

“Absolutely not.” Jason growled.

“Then what do you suggest, Jason? Elope into the sunset under the assumption you can make him all better?” Barbara turned on him, eyebrows raised. Jason ground his teeth. “Admit it, both of you, him staying here with us is the only good option. We can control his environment, who he comes in contact with-”

“Yeah, you know who else did that?” Jason snapped. “Slade.”

Damian jumped out of his seat, stabbing a finger up at Jason’s chest. “How dare you categorize Father with that scum, and how dare you assume you get everything you want, Todd. What Father says, goes, so silence your mewling this instant!” If looks could kill, Damian would be in pieces. As it was, Jason burst forward towards Damian with deadly intention, and Tim pushed himself in between the two after a moment of weighing his life compared to the potential destruction of Gotham. Before he could attempt a peace, Bruce’s voice froze them all.

“That’s enough.” He used his full command voice. “All of you.” His eyes met all of theirs individually, and Tim and Damian both shrunk under the weight of his gaze. Finally, he sighed and swiped his hand over his face. Tim could practically see the weight on his shoulders, and he felt guilty about their infighting, even if he didn’t actually partake in any of it. “Richard will stay with us for now.” Jason started to protest but bit his tongue from the mix of Bruce’s full Bat Glare and Barbara kicking his shin from where she sat. “ _ If,  _ he manages to reach a level of normality and trustworthiness that satisfies myself, Alfred, and Leslie, then we will discuss next steps regarding introducing him back into society. That is my final decision, and as much as you dislike my methods, Jason, you are smart enough to realize this is, as Barbara put it, the only good option. It’s this or Blackgate.” Jason practically hissed at the mention of Blackgate, not that Tim blamed him. Bruce and Jason held a staring match for long seconds. Damian shifted beside Tim, the only tell of the kids anxiety. Finally, Jason rolled his shoulders back and sharply nodded, still looking pissed, but it was the best they could hope for.

“If you do  _ anything  _ to him either he or I disagree with I will slit your fucking throat.” Bruce remained statuesque, but didn’t reprimand him.

“Okay, now that that’s settled…” Tim interrupted, wanting to get rid of some of the tension. However he didn’t actually have anything to say, so he just stood there awkwardly as Barbara and Damian stared at him. Barbara cleared her throat and stood smoothly.

“I’ll see if Alfred has any clothes that’ll fit him, since I’m assuming I’m not the only one uncomfortable with the Court outfit he’s wearing.” She left for the elevator, leaving Tim feeling stranded in shark infested waters. Bruce attempted to send Damian after her to go to bed but he scoffed, sliding into the chair closest to the computer instead. Tim, now that he had a second to breathe, realized how exhausted he was himself.

“Jason.” He lightly brushed Jason’s jacket sleeve. “Let’s go upstairs. Dick’ll be fine, I bet he’s already asleep like we should be.” Jason looked down at Tim, the bags under his eyes as prominent as Tim’s probably was. His eyes shot to Bruce, who had moved to Damian’s side, both Wayne’s talking lowly. “Bruce will let him be for the night, I promise, and you’ll be of no use to Dick like this.” Tim felt guilty using Jason’s emotions against him, but Tim was pretty sure Jason’s love for Dick was the only thing keeping him even remotely tethered to both Gotham and this family right now, and if a little bit of manipulation - with all good intentions - got Jason to not kill anyone right now, Tim would use what he could. Jason finally relented, following Tim to the elevator with minimal death glares at Bruce, who pretended to be oblivious to them.

“You have to realize we are honestly just trying to help.” Tim began once the elevator doors had closed. Him and Jason were both slumped against opposite walls in the box. Jason kept quiet, staring at the roof. “I know you want what’s best for Dick, but you can’t - and don’t have to - do this alone. And Barbara and I will back you up on probably most of this. I mean, I can tell Dick is a good person beneath everything Slade has done to him, and he cares about you, and I want you to be happy, both of us, want both of you, to be happy that is, and-”

“Tim.” Jason’s eyes had closed sometime during Tim’s rambling. Tim’s mouth shut audibly. The doors opened and Jason slid out, Tim quick on his heels up to the third floor and then to their wing of the mansion. Jason stayed quiet the entire time, and Tim figured he had already tested his luck enough. 

They stopped outside Jason’s bedroom, his old one, the one Tim had never seen the inside of but knew Jason hated being in. Jason’s grip on the knob turned his knuckles white. Tim suddenly felt so damn sad for Jason. Not pity, Jason would never take pity, but sad for Jason because Jason had never been able to express his own sadness, so Tim will for him. He bit his lip as Jason stared at the carpet beneath them. “Thank you.” Jason whispered, not looking up, like admitting he accepted their help made him weak. The sadness in Tim’s gut slid up his throat. “I never meant for any of this to happen, Tim. And honestly,” He let out a self-deprecating laugh, “honestly, I-” Jason swallowed, shook his head and readjusted his death grip on the doorknob. Tim’s chest felt like it was caving in on itself. How would Barbara handle this? He reached out tentatively, loosely hooking two fingers on Jason’s sleeve. Jason stared at Tim’s hand.

“You don’t have to say it, Jason, I think I know what you mean.” The air in Jason’s lungs rushed out audibly. 

“You’re a good kid. Don’t let the world fuck you over.” Tim didn’t point out the wetness in Jason’s voice. He let Jason tug his arm back and throw the bedroom door open before slamming it in Tim’s face. He tried not to focus on the sniffling Jason was trying to hide, as he stood numbly outside Jason’s door. 

A door down the hall opened, making Tim start. Barbara emerged into the hall with a bundle of clothes in her arms. She smiled at Tim and held the bundle up like an explanation, then headed down the hallway, presumably to take the clothes to Dick. Tim weakly smiled back before scrubbing his face with his hands and turning to head towards his room. He opened and closed the door noiselessly, leaning heavily on the door and letting his head hit the door with a muted thunk. He breathed in and out again and again until he felt centered enough to focus. He stood there, leaning against the door long enough to hear Damian pad down the hall to his own room finally, and Barbara’s light humming as she slipped into her guest room, not worrying about returning to her own house as her dad was out of town for a police conference in Star. Tim stood against the door long enough to doze, and to wake with a start as he pitched forward. He crashed mutedly onto his bed, stripping out of his clothes without standing up or turning a light on and fumbling under the blankets. Before he fell asleep, he prayed to whatever did or didn’t exist in the sky that tomorrow would be kinder.


	9. Ninth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy slow update Batman!! I'm so sorry for how long this took, the last few weeks have been hell lmao but we're back in business now baby!  
> Uhhhh I think this chapter is pretty tame,,, some mentions of non-con, murder, nothing graphic I hope lol I don't proofread these before I post them  
> Anyways enjoy! Thanks for being patient!!

Dick woke to a slight hissing noise. He took stock in record time, restraints, Court outfit, Batcave, check check and check. He bit his tongue as Bruce approached his side, staring down at him, all high and mighty. Dick refused to break first. Bruce's mouth tightened minimally, before he blinked and reached for Dick's arm. Dick, despite his best efforts, flinched away as best as he could. Bruce didn't react at all, and instead started loosening the cuff on his wrist. 

“Richard, Jason and I have discussed what to do with you,” Dick's leg twitched minutely, he didn't like being talked about like a caged animal. “and, for the time being, you will remain here in Wayne Manor." Bruce reached across his torso to loosen the other cuff, apparently not concerned with not receiving an answer. "This is not an ideal situation, for any of us, but it is for the best." He stood back as Dick sat up cautiously, rubbing his wrists slowly. Bruce sits heavily in the chair beside the bed, clearly waiting for Dick’s thanks or something. Dick folded himself in half to reach his ankle restraints and started tugging at them, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s presence. He refused to help, trust, or like Bruce. Especially considering what he’d let happen to Jason. He rolled his ankles once they were free. “Richard.” Dick did have to fix that, however, if there was going to be any difference in his mind between Bruce and Slade.

“Dick.” He didn’t look at Bruce as the silence stretched.

“Pardon?” Dick bit the inside of his cheek. Jason would be laughing if he was here.

“I prefer being called Dick. Slade, and, and other people, they call me,  _ called  _ me Richard.” Dick kept staring at the wall in front of him. If Slade was who he was talking to, Dick would have been backhanded two ways to Sunday, and fucked about eight different ways to Friday already. This, this is where the distinction between the two men would begin.

“Is that what Jason calls you?” Bruce’s voice was disturbingly soft.

Dick let his lips twitch up. “Among other things, yes.” He didn’t see the look Bruce gave him, not that he would have been able to place it. Dick swallowed. “Is Jason, where is he anyways?”

“Upstairs.” Bruce’s voice turned steely. “I have questions for you I don’t want him interfering with. Jason has a strong protective side when he wants to, I’m sure you’re aware of this. Now,” The momentary distinction between Slade and Bruce disappeared as soon as Dick identified it. His blood thrummed in a way that signified a fight or a fuck and he nearly prayed it wasn’t the later. “Look at me, Ri-Dick. If I am to trust you, I need answers, answers only you have. I will not lay a hand on you, I promised Jason and I promise you now, but I will not let you out of my sight or out of this room until we’ve had a little chat.”

Dick stared at his hands, his hair drooped into his eyes. Slade played this game sometimes too, and the Court did once, right at the beginning. They wanted him to think he had free will and that he was safe to talk. He wasn’t, obviously. Dick was good at staying quiet when it came to stuff like this, Slade had prepared him well and he was thankful for that, he owed Slade a lot. Dick stared at his hands for a very long time, long enough to make Bruce shift a few times and exhale loudly. He wanted Dick to know he was frustrated. Dick wanted him to hit him, to yell, to tie him up and make him bleed like he was used to. He wanted to shift and exhale too, but he refused.

“Dick, you are making this much more difficult than it needs to be.” Oh the number of times Slade had said that to him. Dick took the small victory that was making the Batman break first.

“I will not hurt you.” Dick whispered to his hands. “Because you are important to Jason, not because you don’t deserve it. But I will not help you, and I will not trust you, and I do not like you.” Bruce growled behind him, Dick waited for his face to be pushed into his knees, for an iron grip on his neck, and for Slade’s hot breath in his ear. Nothing of the sort came.

“You would be a good bargainer.” Bruce felt like he was dealing with one of his own sons. “I trust you as much as you trust me, Dick, but I am  _ trying.”  _ Bruce clenched his hands, perhaps finally realizing stubbornness would not be the way to get to this orphan boy. Though he supposed Tim had required some softness, and Cassandra too. “ _ If,  _ I were to bring Jason down here, and if I were to let him ask you the questions I need, would you be more cooperative?”

Dick considered Bruce’s offer. He recognized the minor manipulation Bruce was attempting, and they would be monitored and it would be Bruce’s questions coming out of Jason’s mouth, but...Dick found himself nodding once. Bruce remained silent, but stood after a moment.

“Stay here. Please.” Bruce left the room. Dick counted to five and hit the ground, spreading his toes on the cool cement. He stretched his fingers to the ceiling before folding at the waist and brushing the cement with his fingers. He paced from one wall to the other, then stopped in the center of the room and put his right toes over his head, set them down, and did the same with his left. Just cause he was used to being tied up doesn’t mean he ever got to liking it. He did a few flips and handstands just for the hell of it before settling back on the bed cross 

legged. He waited.

  
  


Jason cursed a half dozen times as he followed Bruce down to the Cave. His complaints had fallen on deaf ears after Bruce had told him Dick would only answer questions from Jason. So many things had happened that Jason hadn’t planned for, and he hadn’t wanted Bruce to talk to Dick without him near. Both were too unknowable in their actions. The door to the fucking holding cell opened in front of them and he shadowed Bruce into the room. Dick was sitting cross legged on the bed, staring intently at both of them as they walked in. Jason realized his and Bruce’s combined bulk commandeered the room, leaving Dick seemingly small on the bed. Dick’s eyes met Jason’s, the striking blue showing the smallest amount of apprehension. Jason pushed past Bruce’s shoulder to sit in the chair. Bruce had told him in short, gruff sentences exactly what he needed from Dick. Jason told him in short, angry sentences he already knew most of what Bruce wanted and would rather tell Bruce the answers than force Dick to.

Bruce grunted with meaning and left the two alone. Alone, that is, not including the hidden cameras in the room. Jason stared at Dick, who seemed to be assessing the situation. He looked more put together, and almost comfortable on the bed. He was still in the Court uniform. His eyes asked Jason for permission. Jason smiled, and Dick flew at him, wrapping his arms under Jason’s shoulders and clutching at the back of his shirt. Jason hugged him back without reserve. He figured the last time Dick had gotten anything close to this kind of touch was the last time they had talked without hostility, on the roof of the Weiser Bank. He knew how Dick craved touch, but didn’t use it against him like Slade did. Jason tapped Dick’s back and he pulled away quickly, retreating to perch on the edge of the bed.

“How’re you, Dickie?” Dick bit his lip, averting his eyes. “Not a loaded question Birdy, promise.” Dick rocked a little.

“Okay, considering. I, I’m good with you." Jason figured that was probably the most important thing right now. He ran his hand through his hair.

"That's good. Bruce wants me to ask you some stuff, I told him I could probably answer most of the questions but he wants to hear it from you because he's pigheaded. There's no wrong answer, think of it just how we do it, okay?" Dick stared at Jason, Jason did little to hide any of his emotions. Dick needed to see for himself. Slowly, Dick nodded. Jason noted his quietness. "Okay." Jason said to himself and rearranged on the shitty chair. "Do you wanna change first? We got some clothes that should fit so you can get out of that thing." Dick shook his head no. "Alright. So first dumb question, your full name and your parents names?" Jason let himself be frustrated, let Dick see he hated this just as much.

"Richard John Grayson. I don't, I didn't know my parents." 

Jason saw that coming, but fuck if it didn't still knock the wind out of him. "Yes, you did. John and Mary Grayson, they nicknamed you Robin." Dick showed no outward recognition. 

"What jobs did you do for Slade?" 

Dick quirked an eyebrow, the only show of amusement. "Murder, torture, blackmailing, manipulation, stealing, you know, all the fun stuff."

Jason huffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I do know actually. Who, other than Slade, did you deal with?" This was an important question actually. It was known mobs and gangs all dealt with each other, but paid assassins like Slade, no one really knew how in the loop they were. If they could get names of who he dealt with, they would know who first to turn to the next time someone like Slade happened.

"Why do you need to know that?" Jason told him the truth. Dick contemplated for a long while. Finally he muttered, "Snitches get stitches." Jason couldn't help it, he laughed. He laughed hard, and when he thought he was done he looked at Dick's crooked grin and started all over again. Finally he caught his breath, and met Dick's eyes. 

"Seriously though, Prettybird please. This information, and any other you have, can help save lots of innocent lives." Was appealing to Dick's overload of empathy manipulation? Jason chose not to consider it.

"Lady Shiva." Dick finally begrudgingly admitted. "Deadshot. Black Mask." Jason seethed silently. "Penguin. Though Slade never dealt with Penguin, I did, Slade said Penguin was 'beneath him'." Dick made his point with air quotes. "People with money. People who would remember Slade." Dick shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. Jason processed that info. It made sense, dealing only with people who could afford you. He nodded to himself. 

"That's good, Dickie, that's really good. Okay I just got a few more." He really didn't want to ask one, he didn't want to know what Dick's opinion on the subject was. "What-" He cleared his throat. "I already know this so I mean you don't need to lie or omit anything. What was your relationship with Slade?" Jason really, really, really didn't want to know how Dick viewed Slade. Dick frowned at him and started playing with the ankle of his leggings.

Slowly, he started talking quietly. "I don't know, I mean Slade's Slade, same as you're you. I love him and he loves me in his own way and he takes care of me and he's never left me and I mean I owe my entire life to him cause he saved me and he taught me how to fight and he gives me food and clothes and a roof over my head, so..." Dick shrugged again. "He's just Slade, I don't know how else to put it."

Jason tasted blood. He unclenched his jaw once he knew he wouldn't scream as soon as he opened his mouth. "What did he save you from? If you don't remember your parents, or your life before Slade, what did he save you from?" Jason tried to hide his anger but it got replaced with sadness and that was somehow worse. But he wanted to know, he needed to.

Dick opened his mouth and closed it. His face scrunched up and his eyes looked around the room like it held all the answers. His fingers clenched on the legging. "I-" He tried, "I don't- he just did. He saved me. I owe him my life he said so." Dick didn't seem to notice he let the last bit slip. Jason wanted to punch something. Or someone, right in his ugly old man one eyed face.

"Okay." He found himself saying. "Last question, Prettybird." It wasn't really, Bruce wanted a full interrogation, but Jason wouldn't do that, and Dick wouldn't be able to deal with it. "What do you want with me?" Bruce somehow had it in his head that Dick was using Jason or something, which Jason knew was bullshit, but while they're asking Dick how he views Slade, it wouldn't hurt to find out how he views Jason.

"Want?" Dick searched Jason's face. "With you?" Confusion was evident in his voice. "Nothing, Jay. I mean I want to be near you, and I want you to be safe and happy, but that's it." He shrugged. " _ Should  _ I want something with you? Cause I don't really expect anything from you. I used to, but you died, and now I don't." Jason blinked, that was an interesting statement. 

"No, you don't have to. But I mean if you want something just ask. But Bruce just got it in his head that you're using me or something I don't know he's super paranoid don't worry about it."

Dick didn't hesitate to say, "I'd never use you. I don't think I could even if I wanted to." They stared at each other for a few seconds, and yeah, some part way far in the back of Jason's mind told him he was a tiny bit in love. 

The door slid open behind Jason, making both of them suddenly on alert. Alfred stood as collected as ever in the doorway, a tray in his hands. Jason relaxed, Alfred wasn't anyone to worry about. "Master Jason, Master Richard, it's a pleasure to meet you finally." Dick twitched in the corner of Jason's eye but stayed where he was on the bed. "I am-"

"Alfred." Dick said quietly. He smiled lightly. Alfred gave Jason a look, but took it in stride. "Jay- Jay's told me about you." Alfred's lips twitched and Jason looked at the floor.

"Well then, no need for introductions then." Alfred stepped farther into the room. "I have brought a small meal for you, something light for your stomach." He comes right up to the bed beside Jason. Dick tenses, but remains where he is. He and Jason both know this is a test. The tray held a bowl of fresh fruit, a cup of yogurt, and a bowl of porridge. Thank God for Alfred. "Well then," Alfred sets the tray on the bed and dusts invisible dirt off his hands, "I'm sure Master Jason pointed out the clothes Miss Barbara has provided, and I hope to see you upstairs soon." Alfred turned to retreat, pausing at the doorway to turn back to them. "Master Richard, I do not know if my word is anything to you, but I promise Master Bruce means no harm, he is simply acutely aware of the misfortunes that have fallen on this family, and wishes to avoid any more." With that, Alfred left, the door hissing shut behind him. Jason turned to Dick, who was still watching the door. 

"I like him." Dick smiled, looking to Jason. Jason smiled back.

"Good. Alfred's a good man, and he's helped me through a lot." Dick stared at the food beside him, unmoving. Jason rolled his eyes to himself, reaching over and grabbing a strawberry and popping it in his mouth. Dick watched him intently as he chewed, swallowed, and leaned back in the chair. Once Dick had confirmed to himself Jason wasn't going to die he jumped on the food. The yogurt disappeared first, and he started working on the fruit bowl.

"So what now?" Dick asked in between bites, keeping his eyes down.

"Honestly, I don't know." Jason tried to steal the last strawberry but his hand was slapped away playfully. "You should change, and then we'll see if we can get out into the Cave if you want." 

"I meant the long run, Jay.  _ He  _ said I have to stay here 'for the time being', but how long is that? What classifies me as 'good'? What happens after I have freedom? Cause I don't suppose you would let me go after Slade-"

"Absolutely not." Jason cut him off. Dick paused mid porridge bite to thin his lips at Jason. 

"Then you're no different from Slade!" Dick's spoon clattered into the bowl as he slid off the bed. Jason shot up, grabbing onto Dick's wrist to spin him around to face him.

"Don't you  _ dare  _ associate me with him! You don't realize how bad he is for you, Dickie, I swear I'm trying to help!"

"You keep saying that!" Dick shoved Jason's chest with the unpinned hand, sending himself reeling back a few paces ungracefully. "But you keep restricting me, and dancing around the truth, please Jason! What's going to happen to me?" There were tears in Dick's eyes and his fists were clenched by his sides. Jason was slightly taken back, Dick rarely, if ever got emotional in public. That's how he knew he had fucked up.

"Do you trust me?" Jason whispered. Dick looked up at him.

"Of course." He responded immediately, just as quietly. Jason bit his lip and took a step towards Dick. 

"Then please,  _ please,  _ trust me Prettybird. I have always done everything I could to help you and you know that, and you have done the same for me. Dick, this is a bad situation for every single one of us, but I am trying." He looped his hand around Dick's wrist again, loosely.

Dick laughed weakly. "You know, Bruce, he said the same thing to me." He closed the distance, resting his head on Jason's chest. Jason could feel the hidden cameras boring into his body. "I'm sorry, I'm just," Dick sniffled. "I'm sca-" He choked himself off. Jason wrapped his arms around Dick's slimmer than usual frame and rested his cheek on Dick's head. 

"Shhh, I know Dickie, I'm sorry. You'll be safe here with me, and as much as we hate Bruce, with him. We'll sort this out, I promise." Dick nodded into his chest. There was a light knock on the door and Jason forced Dick off of him. The door slid open and Tim poked his head in, looking like a scared mouse. Jason pointedly raised an eyebrow, and Tim withered even more.

"Sorry, sorry, ah, um, you're both uh wanted, well you can come into the Cave, if you want. Both of you." Tim disappeared faster than Jason thought believable. Jason shook his head with a huff, turning back to Dick. 

"See, progress. Get changed, I'll meet you out there." Dick bit his lip but didn't argue so Jason grabbed the tray and left the 'room'. 

Tim was pointedly focused on the tablet in his hands as he stepped out. Bruce was nowhere to be seen, but he was obviously nearby, probably the demon brat too. Alfred however, approached without hesitation, taking the tray from Jason's hands. "So, Master Jason, I've been talked about?" There was a twinkle in his eyes.

"Maybe." He leaned against the wall, trying to not smile. God he always missed Alfred the most when he left. 

"All good things I hope." Jason smiled properly, leaning his head back to stare up.

"I find it hard to believe there might be anything bad to say about you." 

The door opened and Dick froze in the doorway, staring at Alfred like a deer in the headlights. Alfred, bless him, took it in stride.

"Master Richard, I see the clothes fit adequately, I apologize, typically I have a little more warning to collect appropriate items." 

"Don't call me that." Dick blurted out before clapping a hand over his mouth and becoming even more panicked. He muttered around his hand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Dickie, relax." Jason pushed off from the wall, sending Alfred a quick look before focusing on Dick. "I should have told him, it's my fault, not your mistake. Relax." Dick's hand slowly lowered to his chest, clenched. "Alf, if you could break tradition for once," Alfred was going to have a heart attack at what Jason was about to ask. "and just call him Dick that'd be amazing." Since when was Jason the mediator? As expected, the corners of Alfred's eyes tightened and his lips thinned. If Dick wasn't just as well trained as the rest of them, he wouldn't have noticed, but he did, and started to curl in on himself, expecting pain most likely. Alfred swallowed.

"Of course, Master Jason." Jason could have hugged him. "Well, Ma-mm  _ Dick _ , I expect you'll be at breakfast." Alfred nodded to himself and strode towards the stairs. Jason turned to Dick, finally registering his new clothes, and fuck, he looked  _ good.  _ The black jeans were definitely Tim's, a bit short but Dick made it work, and the top was one of Jason's old long sleeves, baggy as hell but tucked into the waist. He was barefoot, making the height difference even more noticeable. Oh the things Jason wanted to do to him. Instead he simply asked, "Ready?" Dick's eyes lit up, seeing the challenge and the potential freedom.

"Ready." He replied evenly. Jason grinned. He led them to Tim first. Dick's head was swiveling as they made their way to the Nest, taking everything in as fast as possible. Tim's head shot up from his tablet as they reached the Nest, assessing them both. Jason nodded slightly to Tim, who seemed to breathe just a little bit slower, but that might have just been the shadows. Kid's gonna die from anxiety before the thing that's actually supposed to kill him can get its chance.

"Dickie, this is Tim. Tim, Dick." They had stopped far enough apart to be considered safe but still friendly, Dick a half step behind him. Tim forced a smile like the good socialist he was.

"It's nice to meet you finally, after all the digging we've had to do. Digging into the Court that is, and the whole Vengeance issue." Jason knew they were assessing each other. Tim didn't panic any more than he already was so he assumed Dick wasn't glaring.

"Red Robin." Dick finally said. Tim twitched, but nodded. "Ah Ghul speaks highly of you." Tim's eyebrows shot up as he looked between Dick and Jason. 

"Is that good or bad?" He asked slowly. Jason felt more than saw Dick shrug.

“You’re interesting. To him.” A sudden meow sent Dick’s attention to the black cat rubbing against his leg. Someone clomped up the metal stairs behind them. Dick whipped around to face the potential threat, the cat making an unhappy chirrup as it’s rubbing post moved. Damian, clearly not expecting the three of them, stopped short on the top step, staring at Dick. There was a distinct silence that happened only when every person present was equally uncomfortable with the current situation. Jason shifted slightly closer to Dick, brushing his shoulder. The uncomfortable silence stretched on as Damian and Dick stared at each other. Jason could guess at what both of them were thinking and was about to tell the brat to piss off when Damian spoke up.

“I was not aware we were allowing him out of the cell yet.” Damian directed the statement towards Tim. Jason felt Dick go taut beside him, but he knew the elder wouldn’t speak up, not to a Wayne. Tim opened his mouth but no sound came out.

“ _ Dick _ -” Jason stepped in front of Dick, glaring at the kid. “Is not a prisoner here, Demon, and also not your fucking issue.” Dick pressed his fingers to Jason’s clenched fists. Damian, unbothered by Jason’s temper, caught the subtle movement and stared at Jason with, if Damian was a normal child, what Jason might label as uncertainty. 

“Is he always like this?” Dick’s breath ghosted Jason’s ear as he stood on tiptoe to whisper. “I’ve heard he is.” Jason relaxed slightly, which caused Tim and Dick to follow suit.

“Yeah…” He murmured. “But that doesn’t make it right.” He met Damian’s eyes as he spoke the last part loud enough to be heard. 

The cat that had gone unnoticed slipped between Jason’s legs to wind around Dick again. Dick made a slight hum and crouched down behind Jason, apparently caring more about the cat than the three Bat boys watching him. Jason, keeping an eye on Dick, also watched Damian’s face contort from anger to disgust to confusion to a true neutral face as Alfred the cat eagerly rubbed up against Dick, melting into the pettings and letting himself be scooped up by Dick. Dick stood back up, cat in arms, looking hesitantly to Damian. Damian stared back with the same neutral look, eyes flicking to the cat for a millisecond. He nods once at Dick and makes to leave after another second before nearly running into Bruce, who had appeared directly behind his son. 

Any tension that had ebbed out of the Nest immediately reappeared. Alfred made a  _ murp  _ as Dick accidentally squeezed him just a little bit. “Boys.” Bruce surveyed the gathering. “Dick.” Dick, though tense, bowed his head. “You’ve met my sons.” Another small nod, his fingers clenched in short fur.

“Chill, Bruce.” Tim bites his lip, probably already with three ways to defuse the tension swirling in his brain. “We all already know you cleared him, no need to keep up the intimidation tactic.” Bruce reevaluated his sons, who had unknowingly and unexpectedly come to a silent agreement, and was met with three bat-glares, even from Damian, surprisingly. 

Bruce’s jaw pulsed, the only sign of the internal debate. He met Jason’s eyes. “I want to talk to Dick, alone.” Jason felt his already frayed nerves deteriorate; for the first time in a long time, Jason was tired of fighting. Luckily, Dick must have been on his wavelength, and gently pressed against his side before meeting Bruce’s eye. Jason gave Bruce a truly pathetic glare before nodding at Tim to come with him. Tim, apparently shocked at the easy acceptance, followed him wordlessly, Damian tailing after a half second. 

Jason led them to the armoury, out of talking distance but not yelling distance. He lightly ran his hand over some half constructed who-knows-what as Tim stared at him. “Why’d you do that?” He asked. Jason kept his back to him, fidgeting with the thick wires hanging out the sides of whatever the hell this metal thing was.

“Do what?” Jason hoped whatever it was didn’t have power.

“Walk away so easy.” Tim had placed himself on top of one of the work tables, Damian was still near the door.

Jason scrubbed at his face, already tired despite being up for literally like an hour. “Cause the only way B is gonna pull the stick out of his ass is if he starts talking to Dick. Dick said he didn’t mind being alone with him, so here we are.”

“But he didn’t-?”

Damian huffed from his position, crossing his arms haughtily. “Body language, Drake. I had assumed you had managed to retain at least a basic understanding of the concept.” Jason wasn’t too thrilled the brat had been able to read Dick as well, but he let the two fight over Tim’s competence, and strained his ears to hear for any distant commotion as he continued to explore the armoury. Eventually, Jason heard the unmistakable footfalls of Bruce and made his way back to the doorway. 

Bruce stood outside the armoury, with Dick a safe distance behind him, cat now sound asleep in his grasp. Jason caught Dick’s gaze with a question. Dick smiled, as close to a real smile Jason had seen in a while, and nodded his head. Miraculously, whatever the two of them had discussed had cleared the air somehow. Jason ignored Bruce’s gaze on him, not caring to know what the old man was thinking. “Well,” Bruce began, “Alfred should have breakfast ready soon.” He nods to himself, something obviously picked up from said man, and turns to leave, brushing past Dick.

“Just like that, everything’s fine?” Tim questioned, sliding off the table.

Dick bit his lip, half smiling. “Not quite, but close.” Jason questioned him with an eyebrow. “He, ah… He asked about Slade. But nicely. I’m- it’s gonna be okay, I think. I hope.” Jason made a note to ask into that more, but for now the four of them left the armoury, heading for the elevator, Damian asking a rare genuine question about a series of flips Damian had seen Dick do on film.

Dick paused on the elevator threshold. His shoulders were tight as he eyed the box. Another thing for Jason to dissect later. For now though, “You can take the stairs if you’d rather, but they’re a bitch.” Jason threw his body into one of the corners, pointedly relaxed, grinning softly as Dick. Dick swallowed, eyes still flicking around, and stepped into the box with them. Jason’s mind conjured up the phrase fox in a chicken coop, but he refused to put too much thought into whether he, Damian, and Tim were the chickens or the fox.

The doors slid open silently, and as hesitant as Dick was to get into the box, he was even more hesitant to get out. Jason understood. Enemy territory, uncharted areas, home of your (slightly unwilling) host, expensive things everywhere, things to steal, to break, to use as weapons. The home of the richest guy in the States, and home of the Batman. Jason remembered how scared he’d been when Bruce first took him in; adding in the whole enemy assassin bit, and it got even worse.

Jason’s hand ghosted Dick’s elbow, propelling him into the study. Alfred the cat jumped down and wandered off, leaving Dick awkwardly wrapping his arms around himself. The four made their way through the ground floor, Jason murmuring about the layout to Dick as they passed through each room. Damian had forced a debate on Tim about some tech Lucius was designing, giving them some semblance of normality and privacy.

Alfred was in the kitchen when they got there, obviously. Jason guided Dick to the table and got him to sit, both of the brats sitting across from the two of them. “Am crezut că luăm micul dejun?” Dick murmured to him.  **I thought we were getting breakfast?**

“ Noi suntem. Alf o scoate la iveală.”  **We are. Alf is bringing it out.** Jason nods his head back towards the older man behind them.

Dick’s eyebrows scrunch up. “Pot să-mi iau propriul meu.”  **I can get my own.** It must be weird, not being the one catering to someone else. Jason’s aware of Tim and Damian watching their foreign discussion.

  
“Stiu. Îi place totuși să o facă. Se asigură că toată lumea este îngrijită.”  **I know. He likes doing it though. Makes sure everyone is taken care of.** Dick still looks uncomfortable, but doesn’t argue any further once Alfred comes in with their plates, just thanking the man kindly, and the four of them eat a quiet breakfast. Jason pays attention to how fast Dick eats, he’s so skinny now. Alfred must have noticed too, his plate is loaded despite already eating downstairs. Everything goes fine though, thankfully. Dick asks about the cat, and Damian walks him through all the animals in the house in between bites, and Jason lets himself hope that this may just work.


	10. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're doneeeee!!!! Finally I'm free from this lmao  
> Warnings for this chapter include severe dissociation, slight rape references, references to murder and torture, panic attack, and that shouuld be it....  
> Also, a musical reference in my fanfiction? More likely than you think  
> Thank you so so much to everyone that's stuck with this mess your comments and love really do mean so much to me, and on that note, please enjoy !!

After Alfred clears their plates, Jason decides to take Dick through the Manor. It’s a way to show him around while also having some sort of privacy, in case he decides to freak out at any time. “I don’t understand how you left.” Dick says, as they wander through the giant library. “This entire place is so you.” Jason plops down on the window seat, always his favourite place, with a shrug.

“It wasn’t that simple. I did die you know.” Dick rolls his eyes at him with a smile, fingers brushing over the spines of English books he would struggle to read. “I miss some things.” Jason unabashedly watches Dick move around the room to the French books. “Alf, obviously. And this.” Jason hadn’t really meant to go down this train of thought but here he is anyway. “I miss not having to come home to a dark and empty house, miss not having to worry about people breaking in or being followed home, or using the door more than the window. But at the same time, I couldn’t stay here. It’s not my home anymore, not really.” Dick pauses in his exploration of the fireplace, cocking his head in Jason’s direction.

“Where is home, now?” Jason pauses. Considers. He shrugs.

“Where’s yours?” He retaliates. Dick goes back to looking at the photos on the mantlepiece, black and white things Alfred put up that Jason had never even looked at.

“Wherever you are, I guess.” He throws it out so offhandedly, not noticing the weight in the words. Jason’s breath catches in his throat. He stares at Dick’s back. Logically, he realizes the symptoms of abuse, knows Dick is clinging to him because he doesn’t know what else to do, where else to go, but emotionally? Jason has never been trustworthy. His father made sure he knew how much of an unreliable piece of shit he was, unable to bring home booze and drugs like he was supposed to. Bruce’s trust had always been flimsy, even when he was Robin, and it was only a matter of time before Roy and Kori realized it too. Yet here Dick was, offhandedly giving him his trust like it was no big deal when both of them knew exactly how much trust meant to Dick. How little Dick trusted anyone at all.

“We moving?” Dick cuts through his spiraling epiphany, pulling his body off the seat before he even processes it.

“Yeah. Yeah of course.” Jason adds whatever that was to the list of things for him to look into at another date as they head for the door. “I think next stop is the bedrooms.”

  
  


Dick feels content. That doesn’t exactly encapsulate everything he feels, but it’s close enough, and he’s too tired to think. He’s still dreaming most likely, so he doesn’t worry about anything too much. He keeps his eyes closed, relying on his other senses instead. The sun flows in from somewhere, dancing across his eyelids and warming his cheeks. There’s soft sheets wrapped around his legs, and he moves just to feel them slide against his bare feet. Something smells good, and he tilts his head to follow the smell. Whatever he’s laying on smells like… it smells safe. Which would be weird if he wasn’t dreaming. He doesn’t want to wake up, he can’t remember the last time he had such a good dream. Probably the one with the elephant and the bright colours and lights strung up between trees, but that was a long time ago.

“Prettybird?” Someone murmurs right over him, and normally he’d be up already, knife in hand, but this is a dream, a safe dream, and he can only find it in him to hum low in the back of his throat. “You awake?”

“No.” He tells the voice, curling in around the safe smell better. His pillow shakes as the voice laughs low and quiet. Dick decides maybe he should open his eyes. He slides them open, head tilting up. And oh, it’s Jason. Jason was the safe smell, and the body he’s currently wrapped himself around, sheets tangled around both of their waists. Jason looks down at him with a look that would not be allowed in real life. “I’m still dreaming.” Dick tells him. Fingers stroke through his hair, moving with care, not at all like what he’s used to. But no, that’s not right, he’s used to Jason. But he could have sworn there was someone else, someone who didn’t smell safe and wasn’t gentle. Jason’s other hand comes up, his pointer finger pressing on the crease that had formed between Dick’s brows, smoothing out the worry.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Jason’s fingers weave a long forgotten emotion into Dick’s skull. Dick focuses on the way Jason’s shirt feels between his fingers, and maybe this is all slightly too real to be anything else but reality.

“I don’t wanna wake up. There’s something unpleasant when I do, and I…” He clenches the fabric between his fingers, watches how it pulls tight over Jason’s abs. He doesn’t know how to say everything he wants to, there’s always been a disconnect between his heart and his mouth. “I want this.” He tries. “You. The sun. Feeling safe. I don’t think,” his breath hitches for a second and he forces the anxiety back down his throat. “I don’t think I have those when I wake up.”

Jason breathes out long through his nose, fingers not stopping but now his other hand is prying Dick’s off his shirt to grab onto the hand himself. Dick looks back up to Jason, sees the pain in his eyes, feels how he pulls Dick just a little bit closer.

“I’m awake?” Dick asks, but he knows the answer. Slade and Bruce and the Court force his eyes shut again. The sun suddenly feels too hot, the sheets are itchy. He wants to latch onto Jason, but Jason’s not his, not in reality. The hands on him decide for him, pulling Dick against Jason, pressing his face into his shoulder. Dick doesn’t really process anything until someone reminds him to breathe and then he’s  _ sobbing.  _ He’s not sure if his body is his anymore, he can’t feel anything but there’s the smell of cotton candy and blood choking him and maybe he does have a body because electricity is coursing all through him painfully and his wrists are tied and his body is broken and it’s the Court and it’s Slade and there’s an eight year old boy screaming and Dick thinks he might just finally be dying. 

What must be hours later, the tight pulling on his hair, the hand pulling his throat back to leave hickeys and cuts and finger shaped bruises, lets up, and is pulling through his hair more gently, repetitively. Somewhere, beyond the screaming of the boy and of the hundreds of ghosts he’d created all wailing around him now, another voice leaks through. Dick, if that even is his name, can’t make out what it’s saying but it’s not screaming and he latches onto it with a strength dead men don’t have so maybe he’s not dying. He feels something, something other than electrified water and blood and some primal part of his brain tells him it’s his own body he feels. It’s twitching and shaking and there’s these terrible noises coming out of it that could be labeled as ‘not good’ and Dick doesn’t want it. The voice doesn’t seem to care, the voice guides Dick back into it and he tries to protest but you can’t make noise if you don’t have a body, everyone knows that, and then Dick really hopes he’s dying because now he has a body and everything’s worse. He can feel himself heaving and gasping and there’s something liquid running down his face that probably isn’t blood and Dick would do anything to not have Slade walk in right now, and the thought that he doesn’t want Slade is enough for what little air he was heaving in and out to stop flowing altogether. He thinks he wants to puke but he also doesn’t think he physically can. The voice is louder without the screams, and it says something and some part of Dick must listen, must be so ingrained with the command to follow orders, because now he’s sucking in gasps of air again and the hand in his hair has made it to his back and is rubbing circles and there’s nothing Dick can do, yes that is his name, there’s nothing he can do but wait out his own personal storm but the hand doesn’t hold the same weight anymore and if he could he’d cry even more from that point alone. The voice anchors him somehow, amid the uncontrollable mess that he’d made of himself, the voice is a constant. It’s not Slade, and it’s not the Court, and that’s enough for Dick to let it deal with him, because he certainly can’t right now.

Eventually, Dick runs out of tears. Yes, it was tears, nothing more, running down his face. There’s still noises that he remotely realizes is coming from him, and he cannot stop shaking and twitching and his lungs and head hurt, but the tears have stopped. The hand on his back has not, which Dick’s thankful for; he might float away if the hand wasn’t keeping him down. The voice is slightly coherent and Dick forces his attention on figuring out what it’s saying instead of the way he has absolutely no control over his shaking body.

“-okay-- out -- got you-- promise--okay--” Something about the voice is familiar and Dick tries, desperately tries to ask it something, but all that comes out is a whine. Maybe the voice understands, or it’s just a coincidence, but it responds. “It’s Jason-- me-- safe--” Dick forces his shaking fingers to tighten around whatever they’re wrapped around and the hand on his back pauses for half a second, too fast for his slow mind, and picks back up again. Dick still can’t do much else but let the shivers wrack his body, so he waits, Jason talking nonstop the entire time. They lessen after what feels like more hours, and Dick’s tongue is heavy in his mouth but he has to try.

“-son.” Not what he wanted, but Jason hears him nonetheless. If he wasn’t shivering still he’d feel Jason’s breath catch before being released shakily. 

“Hey, hey Dickie. Are you with me?” Yes, Dick wants to say, mentally he’s with him but his body seems not to be still, which is a shame. Another whine comes out of his throat, and Jason squeezes his hand. “Dick, if you can hear me, can you squeeze my hand, just a little bit?” Somehow, Dick manages that, though he doesn’t really feel it himself. Jason makes a noise above him, and switches his hand back to Dick’s hair. “Okay. Okay, I’m glad Dick.” Jason’s voice is strained, but there’s nothing Dick can do about it right now. “Do you know who I am?” Dick manages another squeeze because yes, he realizes, he does know Jason. Knows him in the dark and in disguise. Knows him by his smell and his coat, by the books he reads and the foods he eats. If he could, Dick would be crying again. His face is damp from the stain on Jason’s shirt his face is still pressed into. Somehow, everything makes a lot of sense, and that confuses Dick. Jason continues to talk until the shaking has stopped. He talks as Dick wiggles his toes and fingers, rolls his tongue around in his mouth, confirming that this is all his. He manages to shift his head off the wet spot.

“Dick?” Jason sounds better now, not that Dick had heard him at the beginning of it all.

“Jason.” Dick manages, and his lips may not have always been his, may have been around disgusting things in the past, but right now they’re Dick’s and only Dick’s. 

“Are you with me?” Jason is being soft, afraid to rebreak him, not that Dick blames him. Dick considers the question. He realizes he  _ still  _ doesn’t want Slade, maybe he never actually had, not like how he wants this.

“Yes.” Dick answers truthfully, with as much strength behind it as he can muster, which admittedly is not a lot. Jason doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Dick’s hair, and Dick almost falls asleep again, pressed up against Jason’s side, exhausted in a way he’d never been and with a lot of things to ponder in his mind. 

“I’m sorry.” Jason causes his eyes to open, though he doesn’t remember closing them. “I’m so sorry.” Dick’s confused for longer than he normally would have been.

“Look at me?” Dick can’t bring himself to move, not yet. Jason peers down at him with watery green eyes and Dick tightens his grip on Jason’s hand. “Not your fault. Not-not mine either, not really. Just life.” Jason looks like he’s going to argue, which Dick knows he cannot deal with. “I think-” Dick cuts him off before he can begin. “I think I don’t want Slade.” Slade with his intimidating eye, his malevolent hands. Slade with his deadly fighting and painful sex. Slade with the blood on his hands and the blood he forced onto Dick as well. Slade who doesn’t hug like Jason does, who hates him crying, who doesn’t give him food or ask his opinion or try to protect him. 

Jason smiles, but it’s painful, and pulls him into a hug, but it’s sad. “I’m glad, Dick. I’m-” Jason swallows whatever he wanted to say with a nod. Dick will work on independence later, but for now, it’d be good just to get away from the monster that created all his worst parts, and get nearer to the man who highlighted all of his good parts. 

Dick must have drifted again, unsurprising considering, and is pulled out of a dreamless sleep by low voices. “-missed supper.” Dick thinks it’s Tim, but his eyelids are too heavy to fight.

“Tell him we’re fine. Dick, uh,” The arm across his back tightens, but in a good way. “Well.” Jason fumbles. “I think Alf would call it a complete mental breakdown, but I’m just calling it fucking terrifying.” Dick hadn’t meant to scare Jason; frankly he hadn’t meant for anything to happen. He tightens his grip around Jason’s torso, and the two above him go silent for a second before continuing.

“Is he, is he gonna be okay? Should I get Alfred?” Tim asks, and Dick thinks maybe Robins are okay even if Bats aren’t. He feels Jason shake his head.

“I don’t know. I think so. He seemed to have some sort of realization about what Slade did, but I don’t know how that’s gonna turn out. He’s okay now, but umm, maybe if you could grab me a water bottle? I’d guess he’s pretty damn dehydrated with how much he cried.” Tim didn’t respond right away, but Dick could feel him staring at Dick, evaluating something. He must have nodded in answer, as he turns to go.

“Jason,” Tim speaks up from the door. “I’m happy for you, for both of you. Whatever Bruce says or does, I think you two are good for each other, and I don’t think Dick is anything other than a good person who’s had bad stuff happen to him.” Jason doesn’t respond, but they may be having a silent conversation again for all Dick knows. The door closes, and Jason sighs, running his hand up and down Dick’s side. Something presses into his hair, Jason’s cheek, he realizes. 

“Oh Prettybird.” Jason murmurs, still unaware Dick’s awake enough to process all of this. “I know you don’t know it, and I don’t know if you’d believe it, or even know what it really is, but I love you, so much, and I promise I’m not gonna let anything happen to you again, okay? I promise.” It’s the last thing Dick remembers, as he falls back asleep. 

  
  


Jason wakes up feeling stuffy. He goes to stretch, but something on top of him is weighing him down. Dick. Yesterday comes flooding back to him, including the unfiltered horror he felt when Dick broke down. Looking down, Dick’s still sleeping peacefully, had been since around 2 in the afternoon yesterday, so obviously it was needed. Jason’s stomach growled, they’d missed dinner, and looking at the clock now, breakfast as well. Dick shifted in his sleep, wrapping his arm around Jason’s waist tighter. Admittedly, as terrifying as yesterday had been, if it meant Dick might be rejecting Slade without Jason having to push too much, then he was thankful. Well, as thankful as you can be looking at your best friend and not seeing them, watching helplessly as they completely dissolve, screaming and crying and dissociating so badly Jason was afraid he’d never come back. He forces himself to relax as Dick continues to shift around, stretching and making noises Jason refuses to think about as he slowly wakes up. Then with a sigh, Dick’s eyes open, immediately going up and focusing on Jason.

“Hey.” Jason offers, swallowing.

“Hey.” Dick replies, throat still raspy from yesterday, eyes still dull, but present. He’s here, which is all Jason could hope for.

“Hungry?” Jason asks lightly, already planning the brunch he’s gonna make. Dick makes an agreeable noise as he rolls off of Jason, stretching like a cat splayed out on the bed. On his stomach, he props his chin on his hand, staring at Jason intently. Jason lets him search for whatever it is he’s trying to find. Jason isn’t sure if he found what he wanted or not when Dick continues his roll right off the bed, standing upright and looking out the window as Jason gets up too. They’re both still in their clothes from yesterday, and they’re gonna have to do some online shopping for Dick anyways, but Jason still changes before heading downstairs. As he heads for the door, Dick grabs his wrist, twisting him around and pushing him into the wardrobe. Jason lets out a startled ‘huh’ as his back hits the doors and Dick crowds his space, each hand around one of his wrists, not tight enough to hurt, just enough to keep his arms at his sides. Dick’s staring at him again, and there’s some sort of excited questioning worried hope happening in his eyes and Jason can only wait for Dick to make the next move. Dick swallows and licks his lips, not breaking eye contact.

“If,” He begins hesitantly, apparently regretting it as his lips thin and eyebrows scrunch. Jason slips one of his wrists out of the loose grip to hold Dick’s hand instead. Dick sucks in a sharp breath. “If,” he starts again, “I were to say, to say I think I love you, but I don’t know for sure, and if I were to ask you to wait for me…?” Dick is searching his face, which is most likely a lovely shade of pink, mouth open like an idiot. He doesn’t respond fast enough, and Dick lets go of his one wrist, and tries to pull away from their joined hands. Jason’s brain comes back online, and he uses the grip he has to pull Dick back towards him. Dick’s dark cheeks are flushed too, less noticeable than on his own pale skin, and Jason ghosts his thumb over Dick’s cheek.

“If you were to say that,” Jason makes sure to catch his eye, makes sure Dick knows exactly what this means to him, because God knows Slade never gave a single flying fuck. “And if you were to ask me to wait for you, I’d say I will.” Dick’s face morphs through a dozen emotions in milliseconds before he simply closes the distance between them, hugging Jason and burrowing his head into Jason’s shoulder. Jason doesn’t even have to think about a response, and they stay wrapped up until Jason’s stomach growls again. Dick laughs, watery but strong, and pulls back slightly, using the heel of his palm to wipe at his eyes.

“Let’s get food, yeah?” Jason smiles, and leads them downstairs. Maybe, he thinks, as he whisks the eggs for omelettes, watching Dick fiddle with the radio, just maybe, after everything that’s happened, they can do this. 


End file.
